Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden
by Willowstead
Summary: After the pain of "Duty" and the trials of "Duty's Journey" Elinora Cousland has finally returned to Alistair & is ready to take up command of the Wardens of Ferelden. But the ghosts of the past will not stay quiet & something new is on the rise...R&R!
1. Prologue

**The Bastards of Ferelden**

**Prologue**

The Planasene Forest – about two years after the crowning of King Alistair, close to Prince Maricen's first birthday (around Chapter 25 of "Duty's Journey")

"I know you are there, elf. No point in hiding anymore."

Zevran dropped neatly from his perch in a nearby tree to the ground about fifteen feet from Morrigan's cook fire. The two assessed each other for a minute, hands at their sides, until a soft "Mama" from behind Morrigan distracted both of them.

"Is that…?" the assassin started.

"Ashling, come here," Morrigan called behind her.

From the shadows a small figure toddled into the firelight. Zevran knew little of children, but the little girl seemed the correct age to have been conceived right before the Battle of Denerim and the slaying of the Archdemon. She clung to her mother's leg and gave Zevran the same assessment her mother had a minute before. Her hair reminded him of fine buckskin, but it was her eyes that took his breath away.

They glowed gold.

Maybe it was the darkness and maybe it was the firelight, but little Ashling's eyes burned with and intensity that he had only seen in a handful of elves. This child was no elf, nor did Zevran think for a moment that she was human. Ashling was something else.

"So," Zevran began casually, "this is what the mating of a Grey Warden and the Witch of the Wilds begets, eh. A very exotic creature indeed." He inclined his head to the child, who reached a hand to her mother.

Morrigan took Ashling's hand, her amber eyes never leaving the invader to her territory. "What do you want, Zevran."

He settled himself on a rock beside the fire, attempting to make himself comfortable and ease Morrigan into conversation. "I have been looking for you for over a year now. I was hoping we could enjoy some civilized chat and catch up a bit. You've been busy, I see." He put on his most charming smile for Ashling, who rewarded him with one of her own. He could feel her curiosity.

"Do not try to charm me, assassin. I have no patience for it. I take it Alistair is looking for me."

"Why no, dear lady." Zevran focused his charm on Morrigan. "I was commissioned to find you by the second-in-command of the Grey Wardens, a very personable man named Rainer."

Morrigan seemed a bit taken aback by this. "Oh, not Alistair then." Morrigan gave Ashling a little push that sent her toddling over to Zevran. "Why did this Rainer send you?" The child leaned against his bare arm when she reached him, her pudgy little hands warm to Zevran's skin.

He gave the child a long look before answering Morrigan's question, which he felt oddly compelled to do. "He wants to know how you did it, kept the Wardens from dying as they slew the Archdemon. He wants you and this little beauty in Weisshaupt."

Ashling's eyes flared as he spoke. Once he finished, she turned to her mother and raised her arms with a little squeak. Morrigan scooped her daughter up and studied her a moment before saying, "You speak truly." Ashling rested her head on Morrigan's shoulder, the very picture of mother and daughter. Zevran shivered.

"Well," Morrigan's tone became casual, odd for her, "since you've come all this way, it would be rude of me not to offer you dinner and a night's rest. We live rather simply here, but it will do for a night, I expect."

Zevran nodded slowly. "A gracious invitation. I accept. In fact," he swung his pack off his shoulder and opened it, "I have a decent bottle of Antivan White to donate to the meal, if you would like."

Morrigan smiled coldly. "How civilized. Allow me to put the little one to bed and then we shall eat. And talk."

Zevran nodded and Morrigan turned to enter the small hut behind her, just out of the firelight's reach.

It was going to be an interesting evening.


	2. Chapter 1 Reunion and Remembrance

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden**

**Chapter 1**

**Reunion and Remembrance**

Highever Castle – two and a half years after the coronation of King Alistair

Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden and Grey Warden, awoke slowly from a gloriously refreshing sleep. His eyes opened to the most exquisite sight that he'd seen since falling asleep last night, one that he had missed for two and a half years. He had no intention of pulling himself away from it anytime soon. Duty bedamned.

Elinora Cousland, Commander of the Grey for Ferelden stood at the window, staring out at the dawn that was just breaking outside. He knew that look, she was thinking, planning. It meant their rest was going to be over soon. But for now he would enjoy every moment of peace he could, which included the vision of the woman he loved wearing only his shirt.

"Come back to bed, my love," he mumbled, unable to stand not touching her any longer.

She turned to look at him, those luminous blue-green eyes drinking in her own handsome prince. The journey had been long and arduous, but she had found her way back to him. Who'd have thought they would have found a happy ending after all?

Of course, life was far from over. Maker knew what was coming next.

"It's been two days, we should probably try to leave the room today." Elinora leaned her head against the window. "I need to talk to Fergus, and I think if you're gone too long, Eamon is going to send out a search party. Or army."

Alistair whined a little and added a pout for effect. "I don't want to."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Me neither."

He smiled like a naughty child. "So let's never leave."

She returned his smile for a moment, but it faded as she crossed her arms and looked back out the window. "I wish, but we've got work to do. You need to get back to Denerim and I need to get to Amaranthine."

"Your Wardens are already there, take your time." Alistair waved a lazy hand in no particular direction.

Elinora shot him a smirk and a low chuckle. "Someone has gotten used to giving orders, I see." She sighed. "No, I need to handle it myself. I doubt they've done more than make a bigger mess of the place. These are men used to fortress life, not an estate, much less a whole Arling."

"Such a dutiful Arlessa I chose."

She turned to him and said, "If my liege," she dipped and exaggerated curtsy, "wants any taxes from Amaranthine, then I need to get to planting and put the books in order."

"Bah, your liege wants you back in bed and by his side." He flipped the blanket aside invitingly.

With a wicked grin she said, "Your majesty forgets, the Grey Wardens answer to no sovereign lord."

Alistair propped himself up on one elbow. "Oooh, listen to that sedition as you play both sides of the fence. I'm going to keep a close eye on this wily Grey Warden commander."

"If she chooses to be seen." Elinora returned to looking out the window, her thoughts returning to business. "We're going to have to work that out, what the relationship between the crown and the commander is going to be in regards to the estate. Better to set precedent…"

Elinora was unable to finish her thought. Alistair had enough of this serious talk and decided she was coming back to bed, whether her sense of duty was pulling her out of it or not. He slipped out of bed, quietly as he could and bear-hugged her from behind. With his arms tightly around her, he kissed her cheek, then threw both of them backward onto the bed. She playfully shrieked and giggled as peppered her with kisses.

What were another few hours of blissful oblivion?

* * *

Hours later, Elinora stood in what was now Fergus's study. Taking up most of the north wall was a tapestry she had known her whole life, but never taken a long, hard look at. Every noble family had one somewhere; a great scrolling length of fabric with the names and dates of everyone born or married into the family. The Couslands were an old line; there was far more fabric scrolled up in the bracket close to the ceiling than held on the lower one at her waist. In fact, the bottom bracket holding the blank fabric was running low.

Her fingers traced the newest embroidery on the great family tree. Someone had added the date of death for her parents, Oriana and little Oren. According to tradition, she should have been the one to do that, but she had been otherwise occupied. Come to think of it, she was surprised the tapestry was still here at all. Howe had taken such pride at destroying her family; surely he would have destroyed the record of it as well.

"Roan hid it," Elinora turned to find Fergus leaning against the doorframe, apparently reading her mind again, "along with a good amount of other papers. We found them in a storeroom. You remember that hideous tapestry of the Marbari in battle?"

Elinora shuttered a little. "That thing gave me nightmares. I cried until mother took it down."

"Weren't such a big, tough Warden then, huh?" he teased.

She scowled at her brother. "I was three! And what does that thing have to do with this?"

"Roan wrapped the lineage in it to hide it. He figured they would never hang anything so ugly."

"And he was right it seems." She drifted her fingers across her parent's names. "Did he survive?"

Fergus shook his head sadly. "Howe executed him after torturing anything useful out of him."

Elinora closed her eyes, trying to contain her rage and guilt. One death was not enough for Rendon Howe. "I failed everyone that night."

Her eyes opened back on her stitched name, the dead end to the Cousland line. She tried to tell herself that Fergus could remarry and have more children, and it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she could bear a child, but it rang hollow. In thirty to fifty years, the Cousland line would be gone from Ferelden forever.

Fergus put a strong hand across her shoulders and joined her study of the tapestry. "Don't be ridiculous. One girl versus an army? You survived, which is a miracle in of itself." He wrapped his other arm around her in a protective hug. "The Maker obviously had plans for you."

She leaned back against her brother, enjoying a simple moment of safety. "Did he? Or did our parents…" The thought died on her tongue.

"What are you talking about?"

Elinora pulled herself away and ran a hand over her face. She had been looking for plots in shadows for too long. "I wonder how much it was fate that put Duncan here that night, and how much it was Mother, trying to find some purpose for me."

"What?" Fergus's shock was surprising to her. Was she the only one who didn't put much stock in coincidence?

She shrugged a little. "Could have been Father, come to think of it."

"Are you serious?"

"Fergus, think about it. Mother had introduced me to every eligible young man in Ferelden, and I would have none them. Not one was good enough. She had a spinster in the making, or Maker forefend, another foreigner married into the family."

"Mother loved Oriana!"

"She did," Elinora softened her expression, "very much. But Oriana was easy to love, and she came with a healthy dowry, trade ties and good, fresh bloodlines. I was supposed to marry locally to balance it out."

"How can you say these things?"

Elinora's gaze shifted shamefully to the floor. "Mother taught me to play the game, even though I tried to fight it. I keep wondering if they brought Duncan here so to do something honorable with their unmarriable, rebellious daughter."

"Rebellious?"

A very rueful smile played on her face. "You were busy, what with the wife and child and taking the reins of the militia from Father. I had been getting into a lot of trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

With a guilty shrug, she started ticking the list off on her fingers. "Sneaking out of the castle, drinking at the village tavern, petty theft, getting into fights…"

Fergus chuckled lowly and pulled his little sister to him, returning her to a few moments of brotherly protection. "So that's why father kept sending money to The Stag's Head. All in the past, pup. You've made up for it since."

"Teryn Cousland, I wanted to speak with you…. oh." Alistair stopped dead as he found his quarry and his love at the same time.

Fergus kissed his sister's forehead and released her. She punched him in the arm and headed for the door. "I'm going to take Finn for a run in the garden. Let you two be all manly together." She paused to kiss Alistair's cheek and headed for the kennels.

"You needed something, your majesty?"

Alistair wasn't paying attention; he was too busy watching Elinora walk away with a blissful grin on his face. Fergus pointedly cleared his throat.

"Oh, right." Alistair's attention returned to the Teryn and he nervously cleared his throat.

What could a king have to say that would make him nervous?

* * *

Finn was enjoying being home again. He was happily digging up old treasures in the garden as Elinora wandered aimlessly, thinking about the little girl who used to climb the trees here. She was grateful to see that her favorite apple tree was still there.

She was testing a branch when Alistair found her. "That does look like a good climbing tree," he commented.

With a little blush, she turned and leaned against the solid trunk. "It is, or at least was ten years ago."

The vision of little Elinora, complete with skinned knee and dirt on her nose, made him smile, but there was business to be done. "So, darling, you made me a little promise at Ostagar."

"What?" A moment's confusion gave way to remembrance. "Oh, the second time we were there, right before the Landsmeet. I made a promise."

"Yes," Alistair took a bracing breath. This was scarier than he thought. "You said you would marry me."

She smiled softly. "Yes I did. Once the Blight was over and everything was settled."

"So," he breathed a happy sigh and embraced her, "a grand royal wedding, or shall we find a little Chantry somewhere, immediate family only?"

"Alistair…"

"The people may frown upon that, though. They seem to like it when we put on a show."

"We can't." Elinora pulled away, trying to work out how to not make a complete mess of this.

Alistair's arms dropped and he took a step back. "What?"

"We can't get married."

Fury crossed his features and he took a step away from her. "Why ever not?" he demanded loudly. "I did what you asked of me and you've taken care of the Wardens. Now, its time for us!"

Her voice raised to meet his. "Anora's ashes aren't even cold yet and I am hardly done with the Wardens. We may have returned, but we're hardly established."

"So you chose the Wardens over me?"

"I…"

"Is it always duty with you? Can't you let it go, just once?" Alistair paced, unable to be still in his anger.

She stiffened. "No, I can't, and you can't either. And as for choosing? What choice is there?"

"You promised…"

"Yes, I did." Elinora put herself directly in front of him, her eyes focusing on his. "And I will fulfill that promise, just not yet."

"When?"

"When the time is right." Elinora sighed. She was sick of this too.

Alistair sat dejectedly on a bench. "What about children?"

"You already have some," she responded tartly.

"But I want one with you." He sighed and reached for her hand. "I want a thousand with you."

Elinora gripped his offered hand. "We'll be lucky if I can survive one."

"What do you mean?"

"You read that journal, didn't you? First Warden Jurgen's?"

With a guilty look he muttered, "Um…. Bits?"

She threw up her hands with a frustrated sigh. "Let me give you the short version. Thirteen pregnancies, five children survived, three of them weren't right and the two that were answered the Calling at about age thirty-five."

"Oh." Alistair stared at her and blinked a moment. "The mothers?"

"About half survived."

Alistair studied the ground. "Half."

Elinora nodded and stood next to him. "And without Hennrick's notes, there's a lot of information that we're missing. Things that could increase our chances."

He looked up at her. "So, you're willing to try?"

She took up that stoic look she got before going into battle. "Yes."

He smiled. "Good." Alistair stood and put on his kingly look. "We shall head out in the morning, take the Coastlands Road. Then you'll turn north for Amaranthine and I will head south for Denerim. Come see me as soon as possible?"

Elinora nodded. "Sounds like a plan, your majesty." She called Finn and turned back to the castle. Alistair followed. "So, was that what you wanted to talk to Fergus about? Marrying me?"

Alistair smiled slyly. "I didn't want him punching me again for being too forward with his little sister."

She stopped. "He punched you?"


	3. Chapter 2 Amaranthine Mess

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 2**

_A/N: I have not played Awakenings (mumblegrumble$40grumble…) and thus am making most the Amaranthine details up. The Howe children are pretty easy to find, so all of them are mentioned._

_I am really excited by the number of alerts and favorites that have happened for this piece in the first 24 hours of it being up. That, and the reviews, keep me writing! Thanks everyone!_

**Amaranthine Mess**

Amaranthine Castle – four days later

As Elinora Cousland gazed up at the ragged stone walls and closed gate of Amaranthine, a deep sense of dread fell over her. Her horse and Finn felt it too, or sensed it coming off of her. She wished, not for the first time, that Alistair had not been so generous, or at least that he was here with her. Unfortunately, he had turned south for Denerim yesterday and she was once again on her own.

She didn't like be on her own.

"Who goes there?" barked a voice from the parapet. She looked up to find a familiar face looking down at her.

"Its your commander, Warden Bittan. Come for inspection at last!" she yelled up.

"El?" He took another look down then turned and ordered the gate open. She rode in amid calls announcing her arrival. Orbert jogged from the guardhouse and took the reins of her horse as she dismounted.

Orbert, always formal, saluted then said, "Warden-Commander El, thank the Maker you're here. This place is a wreck."

As she went up the steps to the Great Hall, she noticed the piles of broken and charred furniture laying about, some hacked up for firewood. There was a lot of it. Once inside, the Hall itself was almost bare. There were only a few benches and one tressle table in the huge space. Some graffiti was scrawled on the walls.

"Die Warden bitch," Elinora read. "Wonderful. Any idea who hates me so?"

"He's in the dungeon," a familiar voice boomed through the empty hall. "One Thomas Howe, who claims rightful possession of Amaranthine and was vandalizing it when we got here."

Elinora turned to see Burion entering from the eastern door. He looked a bit ragged around the edges; his long dark hair was starting to show some grey and his green eyes didn't quite have their usual mischievous sparkle. He embraced his commander with a warm smile on a face that had defiantly gotten thinner. "Thank the Maker you're here."

"You have far too much faith in my housekeeping abilities," she muttered pointedly. "What else?"

Burion sighed and started the list. "The west wing is gutted by fire, as are the stables and gardens. When we got here the furnishings were smashed and any food left behind was… spoiled. So far the only things we've come across that are still whole are items very difficult to break. And there's not a single weapon to be found."

"How long have you been here?"

Burion shrugged. "About three months."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what have you been living off of?"

"We've sent out foraging and trading parties. Tried not make too much of a menace of ourselves, but, um, well…"

Elinora covered her face with a hand. "You've pilfered off the locals, haven't you?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Only when absolutely necessary and we usually tried to trade first."

"Lovely." She sighed again. "When did you catch Thomas and where is Aldo?"

"About a week ago and Aldo's at the Circle of Magi."

"Why?"

Another shrug. "Mage stuff."

"What about Vallis and the others who were with me in Orzammar?"

"Arrived a week ago, wondering where you were." Burion raised an eyebrow but said no more.

She brushed it off with a wave of her hand. "Family stuff. Speaking of which, take me to see Thomas."

* * *

The dungeons were as rank as Rendon Howe's had been in Denerim, though they lacked the corpses of torture victims. The only occupant was Thomas Howe, glaring at her as he sat in the corner of his cell. "So the Warden whore finally shows her face in her stolen Arling."

Elinora took a bracing breath and tried to meet his eyes. "How are you, Thomas?"

"Oh just peachy ever since you murdered my father and had that bastard king hand over our lands to you, my lady." The last part his said with such venom that wanted to recoil, but didn't.

She wanted to scream at him, tell him what a spoiled child he was, but instead calmly explained, "Thomas, do you understand that your father attacked Highever in the middle of the night?" Her voice was even and low, controlled. She didn't think she could manage that for much longer. "Do you understand that he had my father, mother, sister-in-law and four year-old nephew murdered?" Her voice broke on the last word.

"I…"

"Go ahead," she growled. "Try to explain it, make excuses." Two steps brought her to the bars of his cell, her hands gripped them. "His sword may not have slit Oren's throat, but his orders killed that little boy while he slept. Your father was a traitor and the Howe line is finished."

Thomas blanched, but mustered himself as he stood, taking one step closer to the bars. "I cannot get a fair…"

"Fair?" she shrieked. She shook the bars and flung herself away from the cell. Turning away, she pulled herself together, finding an inner calm amidst the storm raging in her heart. "Thomas, if you had any sort of sense you would have exiled yourself in the Free Marches with Nathaniel," she muttered, leaning against the wall across from his cell. "Wait. Where's Deliah?"

"Somewhere you'll never find her." Thomas crossed his arms and matched her posture at the back of his cell.

Elinora narrowed her eyes and considered. "You have no idea where your sister is, do you?"

He looked away, "No."

"If she's smart, she'll stay there." Elinora sighed into her hands. "What am I going to do with you, Thomas?"

"Dunno," he half-smiled ruefully at her. "Should have married me when you had the chance."

"Kid, you were always too young for me. And you didn't have the guts to step out of your father's shadow."

"You took care of that, didn't you? I got the guts now."

With a raise of her eyebrows, she thought a moment. "Do you?" She appraised the angry young man in her holding cell. He'd always been a petulant child, even when he was an adult. Maybe the loss of the father could make something of the son?

Elinora took the key from its niche in the wall and opened Thomas's cell. "Show me you have the guts to start over, the build your own life without your father or his name. Here." She reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a handful of mixed coins. "I release you with the clothes on your back and whatever I just gave you. I never want to see you again, or hear the name Howe. Good luck, kid."

Thomas looked to her, then to the coins in his hand. For a moment it looked like he was going to pelt her with them and some insults. Instead he turned on his heel and ran. Elinora followed at a slower pace, informing the other Wardens to let him go.

Burion watched him run out of the gate. "That could have been the stupidest thing you've ever done, or the wisest."

"Time will tell. Now tell me what kinds of supplies we have."


	4. Chapter 3 Arrival of Weisshaupt

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 3**

**Arrival at Weisshaupt**

Weisshaupt Fortress – about the same time

"That way, mama." Ashling's pudgy hand jutted along the side of Morrigan's head and pointed to their left. Morrigan smiled, with a heft of the pack that carried her child and few possessions, she took her daughter's direction. The child was almost always correct.

Even though spring was on its way, she was trudging through deep snow. The sky was clear and the glare off the snow was painful. Morrigan was exhausted and wished she could do this in wolf or bear form. But Ashling couldn't do that yet, so on they marched. The child was developing in ways Morrigan didn't understand, not that she knew much about children to begin with. Ashling's mind seemed to be greatly outstripping her body, but she still behaved in many ways like an ordinary toddler.

Another few twists and turns and the great fortress of Weisshaupt loomed before mother and child, its gates closed. Morrigan ran the great, brass bell.

A mountain of warrior opened the door a few moments later and blinked in surprise at what waited outside. "Um… hello, miss. Are you lost?"

Morrigan pointedly raised an eyebrow at him. "I am here to find a man named Rainer."

The warrior glanced at the child riding on the strange woman's back and ushered them through the courtyard and into the castle. He settled them before the fire in the Great hall and went to find Rainer.

First Warden Rainer sat behind his desk, mind numbingly bored by the dry reports in front of him. He wished that some interesting would happen.

Truth be told, he'd been restless since Elinora Cousland left him behind in Val Foret. He'd received a few reports here and there from her, but there was nothing personal in them, nothing to imply that their relationship had been anything more than business.

A sad smile always clung to his face when he thought of her. He was the one who said that the affair would be simple. He had given her total control over its direction. What she had wanted was a brief reprieve from her loneliness, but he had to admit to himself that he wanted more. He'd hoped that she would toss aside king and command to stay with him.

But that was not in Elinora Cousland's nature, and one of the reasons he loved her.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts. Barth stood in the doorway with a very perplexed look on his face. "There's a woman asking for you, and she's brought a child."

"What?" Rainer moved quickly for the Great Hall. It would be just his luck if one of the two women he'd known between Idetta and Elinora would turn up with a child. So much for the difficulty of Wardens conceiving.

His thoughts froze as he met the gaze of the woman beside the fire. He had never seen her before; he would remember those amber eyes and the dark look she was giving him. "You sent Zevran to find me."

It took Rainer a moment to remember. It had been quite some time ago. "Right, the elf assassin. You must be Morrigan."

"I am." She motioned to a chair besides the fire with its high back to Rainer. "This is my daughter, Ashling."

The girl turned in her chair to look at Rainer. He gasped at the sight of her. And the sense.

From across the Warden bond, he could feel her presence, general mood and state of health. Right now, she was curious and hungry. Her golden eyes blinked as she smiled at him.

"Barth," Rainer began, "could you please have some tea and something to eat brought up?"

Barth's eyes were on Ashling as well, but he shook his head at his name. "Right, commander. Be right back." The big man headed for the kitchens.

Rainer continued to stare at Ashling, who happily stared right back. "My apologies for his behavior. I don't think he's seen a woman since El left us, and Maker knows how long for a child."

"So Elinora is no long here?"

"No, she went to Ferelden to take up her command. Last report I had from her put her in Orzammar." He turned to look at Morrigan. "But I don't believe that you've come to check up on your old companion. What is it you want?"

Morrigan looked to Ashling, then turned to the fire. "I seek the Grey Warden's protection for me and my daughter."

"Protection from what?"

"Templars and the Chantry, mostly." Morrigan shuttered a fraction at the memory of their small hut burning. Ashling had gotten away from her and found people. Morrigan didn't know exactly what happened, but the child had terrified a group of bandits enough that they went running for the closest Chantry. The Templars found them a few days later. "She's developing a curiosity about people, one I would rather feed than fight. In exchange for our shelter and safety, I will instruct those who wish it."

"Does that include the ritual that created…" Rainer glanced to Ashling and thought better of his word choice, "that saved the Wardens from the Archdemon."

Morrigan nodded.

"Welcome to Weisshaupt."


	5. Chapter 4 Sleepless in Amaranthine

_A/N: A little explanation about Thomas; I choose him on purpose. I haven't played Awakenings and thus am ignoring its content, since someday I will play it and I don't want to spoil it for myself anymore than needed. Thomas and Delilah are mentioned in the Cousland origin (depending on gender). My research comes between personal game play and .com/wiki/Dragon_Age_Wiki_

_And sometimes, just sometimes, I say to hell with it and make stuff up. I have never been one to let truth get in the way of a good story._

_Speaking of which (oh that wasn't pretentious or anything), thanks to all of you have a reviewed, favorited and alerted it!_

**Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 4**

**Sleepless in Amaranthine**

Amaranthine Castle – one month later

For the next few weeks, Elinora was active all over Amaranthine from sun up to sun down, getting the Arling in order. Burion and Orbert hadn't exaggerated; the place was a wreck. One problem would be solved and four others would pop up. And worse was her Wardens general inability to do anything useful. Not one of them was a stonemason or a carpenter, and only one out of her twenty-nine Wardens had served as an apperitence to a blacksmith. At least some of them remembered a thing or two about farming; they might be able to get something grown by winter.

At night she poured over the correspondence, contracts and reports that hadn't been destroyed or stolen. She made list after list, note after note, of things that would help get the place on its feet as both and estate and fortress. There was much work to be done, but Maker knew she had the time to do it.

Elinora couldn't sleep.

At first she thought it was the pallet that she had made for herself on the floor of the master suite, most of the furniture having been destroyed. But truth be told. it was far more comfortable than most nights she had spent camped out. She tried moving it, checked the room for drafts and even shared Alcina and Maphisa's quarters for a night, but nothing helped.

Hope came with a collection of second-hand furniture from Denerim, including a few beds. Alistair had responded well to a somewhat whiny and incoherent letter from her. Unfortunately, she still couldn't sleep for longer than a couple of hours at a time.

Elinora knew that if this kept up, she would go mad.

It was the castle, she was sure of it. No matter how she scrubbed it or moved things around, it was still permeated with the history of the Howes. She had spent enough time here as a child to have clear memories of running through the halls with Fergus and the Howe children. They had liked to scare her with ghost stories, but it was the darkness of the place that got to her, even as a child. Elinora Cousland was not afraid of the dark, but something about Amaranthine Castle was just creepy. Recent history and her ownership of the place didn't help at all.

As soon as she could, Elinora would leave this place. That meant finding a good steward to run the estate and choosing a sergeant to lead the training of her Wardens, both new and old. Mother had always said that putting a task to the right party was how things got done. If one was clever, things could run themselves.

All she had to do was find the right people.

Her insomnia did have a positive side, though. If she had been able to sleep, Thomas Howe just might have been able to kill her.

It was a night that she felt, for once, relaxed. She had a bed, had gotten a long bath, and that day had hired an experienced man named Coyle to serve the castle as steward. He came with excellent references and could answer her questions well, even one about her insomnia. Some of the weight was coming off her shoulders.

At Coyle's suggestion and assistance, she had a bath brought up along with a pitcher of mulled red wine. The steward said this combination worked wonders for his mother in her declining years. The bath had certainly been wonderful and the wine set her mind to a pleasant hum. It had been a long time since she had let alcohol get the best of her.

With a warm, muzzy head, she blew out the candles and crawled into a nice, soft bed. And then proceeded to not sleep. As usual.

She was trying a meditation technique, closed eyes and deep breathing, when she heard the door creak. She always made sure her doors creaked. She turned on her belly like any restless sleeper, and found the dagger under her pillow. Still feigning sleep, she listened as the steps grew closer, counting.

Whether it was exhaustion or she didn't know the room as well as she thought she did, her count was off. A blade nicked her throat as she dodged away, flinging her knife arm at her attacker. The blade sliced through something and there was a scream of pain, but she ignored it as she flung herself from her bed and onto her assailant. With a grunt, she stabbed downward.

Thomas Howe lay beneath her, her dagger in his chest and a deep gash across his face. She panted for breath as Thomas dragged in his last ones. "Why?" she whispered.

"Couldn't…" he gasped as red blood started to pour from his mouth. "Revenge… better."

"How did you get in here?" she demanded. Thomas smiled, choked one last time, and went to be judged by the Maker.

She cursed and stood, wincing at the cut on her neck. It wasn't bad, but it stung.

Elinora's mind spun. Lying dead at her feet was one of her childhood friends, a man she might have married. Another life destroyed.

Feet pounded in the hall and her room was filled with Wardens, some in their skivvies. Burion pushed his way to her side, his eyes never leaving the corpse cooling on the floor. "Commander?"

Her eyes stayed on Howe as her breathing slowed and calmed. Elinora pinched the bridge of her nose and focused. "Get him out of here." She squeezed her eyes shut once then looked to her second. "Burion, did you find the Howe family tapestry?"

"Uh…. Yes, Commander." Burion was clearly confused.

"Bring it to my office. As well as tea, strong tea." Elinora stood up straight and looked around at the men in her bedroom, some looking at her with pride, some with condemnation. Orbert looked a little green. "The rest of you, get back to where you belong. If you're not sleeping or on duty, get building a pyre outside the gate. We burn him at dawn."

* * *

"Commander, are you sure about this?" Burion held the torch that was waiting to touch off the fires that would obliterate Thomas Howe's earthly remains. He was the Maker's problem now.

Elinora repressed the bark she wanted to give and answered simply, "Yes."

"It just that this is…" Elinora shot Burion a look from her deeply shadowed eyes that would have silenced most men. For him, it simply changed his word choice. "It seems harsh."

"I need to send a clear message, Burion." Her voice was flat and cold. "Light it."

Burion saluted his commander and put the torch to the corner of the Howe family tapestry that was wrapped around the body of Thomas Howe, all but his head. Elinora had been specific about that. She wanted the locals to see who had died that night. She wanted them to see that the Howe family was no more.

At dawn, Wardens had gone into the town to announce the funeral. An hour after sunrise they had brought Thomas's body out, wrapped in the tapestry. The pyre was built of the wrecked furnishings of the castle, including family portraits that had been ruined in the fires before the Wardens got there. Such a detail would probably escape local peasants, but she wanted them to see her erase all traces of the Howe line.

As the pyre blazed, Coyle was brought before her, held by Orbert and Bittan.

"I find it very interesting that the same night you suggest a cure for my insomnia, someone gets Thomas Howe into my room to kill me."

Coyle's gaze remained steadily on her. "A coincidence, my lady."

Elinora studied his face and frowned. "I doubt that very much. You are to leave and never show your face in Amaranthine again. Am I clear?"

Coyle narrowed his eyes. "As a still pond, my lady." Orbert released him with a shove toward the road south. Bittan handed him the sack with his worldly possessions. Coyle started walking without a backwards glance.

Elinora stayed by the pyre all day, watching the flames consume another man who had attacked her. But the time was not spent idly; a great many Amaranthine citizens spoke to her that day, more than she had expected. There were some complaints and concerns, but more friendly overtures that she was expecting. The Howes had never been well loved, though the locals weren't sure about living under the rule of Grey Wardens.

It was time for them to really venture out of the castle. They'd been isolated for too long. The Wardens needed to drink in the pubs (and pay for it), train with the local militia, work the fields, and see that the Arling was maintained.

She could do this, she vowed it.


	6. Chapter 5 Visitors

_A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you something you've been waiting for…_

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 5**

A Letter from Fergus Cousland, Teryn of Highever, to his sister, Elinora Cousland, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden

_My dearest sister,_

_I'm not going to ask how you knew where Mother had hidden this, or why the lock was broken on the chest, but I want to know why you are using your dowry to pay for repairs to Amaranthine. Shouldn't these funds come from the king or from your Grey Warden leadership? I really don't think they expected you to pay for it out of your own pocket. That being said, I am sending not only what you requested, but four experienced guards, two housekeepers and Roan's youngest son, Rom, to see to the estate. You can't do everything by yourself, pup._

_All my love,_

_Fergus_

**Visitors**

**Amaranthine – two months later**

He was coming.

After three months of hard work, politicking and next to no sleep, Amaranthine was in good order. It had taken all of her dowry and a some creative haggling to make happen, but the castle had become a proper fortress to house and train Wardens. Relations with the locals were improved and so far there hadn't been any more trouble.

It was time for the First Warden to come see their progress.

Elinora Cousland hadn't been this nervous since facing the Archdemon.

It had been over a year since she had last seen Rainer. She could still picture him clearly, standing at the intersection of the corridor, offering her… what? Affection? Love? A night not in an empty bed? So many times she'd tried to figure out just what she was doing, why she had chosen to indulge in that little fling. Each time she came to the same two conclusions. The first was a blend of simple loneliness and attraction; unsurprising and uncomplicated. The second was much harder to admit; she had wanted to hurt Alistair.

Duty or not, true love or not, soul mates or not; there had been other women. It didn't matter that Elinora had been the one to tell him to marry and have children. Her injured feminine pride was not interesting in logic or facts. The affair with Rainer certainly had nothing to do with logic or facts.

At least it proved that she could still feel. And that she was still a woman. She had tried to forget since that morning in the exercise room, and Alistair hadn't helped. She didn't want him to help. She didn't even want him to know. Bloody Zevran and his big elven mouth.

She buckled on the last piece of her new armor; a combination of dragonscale and silverite that looked much heavier than it was. The breastplate downplayed her feminine charms. She didn't want to remind Rainer, or herself for that matter, about times past. It was best to remain as genderless as possible. It was bad enough that her chestnut hair was now past her shoulders, but then again, Rainer's would probably still be longer, and gorgeous.

She pushed out the stupid girlish flutter in her stomach with a huff and pulled herself away from her cracked mirror. In her study she settled in on the accounts in front of her. Her thoughts on getting a better price on beef were interrupted by a running Orbert. "Commander…!"

"He's here then." Elinora stood, adjusted her armor and headed out of her office and to the courtyard with all the dignity befitting a Commander of the Grey. She would not show a speck of apprehension, or any emotion at all, to the First Warden.

"Oh, look at you," said a voice she was not expecting. "So official and… shiny!" Alistair grinned an approving grin at her.

"Alistair?" He stood in her courtyard, handsome in a simple huntsman's vest and a sneaky smile. "Andraste's flaming sword, what are you doing here?" she gaped. This was not part of the plan.

"Well, I figured it since the place was going to be all spit-polished for the First Warden, I should inspect as well." His casual tone was belied by the way he cut his eyes to her. "Your letter did say he should be arriving anytime now, right?"

"Right," she said slowly as she closed the distance between them. Of all the gormless things to pull. As if this wasn't hard enough without king and lover on her doorstep. "First Warden Rainer estimated he would arrive sometime within the next three days."

"So formal." Alistair quirked a teasing eyebrow at her. "Next thing you know you'll be calling me 'your majesty' all the time."

"I have every intention of using proper protocols and manners when in public, your majesty," she said matter-of-factly.

Alistair frowned and looked worried. Elinora took pity on him and winked, which put his charming smile back where it belonged. They wouldn't always be in public. "If your majesty would allow me to give my people some instructions regarding feeding and housing your retinue, I could give you the tour." Elinora smirked, "It'll be good practice for the one that counts."

Alistair smirked back. "No need. I didn't want to put you out, so we're well supplied and most of the men can camp either in the courtyard or just outside the walls, if that suits you."

She raised a smug eyebrow at him. "I see that you haven't completely forgotten how to be a soldier."

"I think I can still make a mean mystery meat stew if necessary."

"Pray that necessity never comes up." She nodded to Burion, who was heading for Alistair's valet and guard captain. Burion was good these sort of logistics. The sun was well on the way down, but he would have everyone settled before dark. "It seems my second has everything in hand. How about that tour?"

The tour began and ended in her bedroom.

Alistair could sense her exhaustion. No amount of hot baths or mulled wine could ease her insomnia. Her letters said she got a few hours here and there, but no good, solid sleep. He knew of one thing that always put her in a deep state of relaxation, and was happy to provide it.

After the exhersions of lovemaking, Alistair watched her sleep. Maker's breath, she was beautiful; scars, stress lines, tattoo on her arm and all. Her breath was deep and even, and her eyelids fluttered just a bit. She was dreaming, which meant she was really out.

Alistair eventually fell asleep next to her, only to be awoken by the gong signaling the watch change. After trying and failing to get back to sleep, he slipped out of bed, dressed comfortably in breeches and tunic, and put her new armor neatly on its stand. It had been rather carelessly flung about the room, but in the moonlight didn't appear too worse for wear. It was a fine set of armor, light and strong, just like her. She wanted to make a good impression, which he understood. He just wished the First Warden she wanted to impress was not the man she had an affair with.

Alistair was just fishing the last gauntlet from under the bed, when there was a furious pounding at the door. He darted up to answer it and slipped into the hall to speak with whoever was so rudely interrupting them.

The young man was surprised to see him, especially half dressed and coming from his commander's quarters. His jaw worked but a few choking sounds was all he managed.

Alistair put on what he hoped was a disarming smile. "She's asleep, or at least was before you knocked. What is it, Warden…?"

"Orbert, your majesty. First Warden Rainer is here."

"What?" Alistair gasped. "It's got to be after midnight!"

"Yes, you majesty, but he's here, down in the Great Hall, waiting for Commander El."

"Right." Alistair gave it a moment's thought, then looked back to poor Orbert. "I'll be down directly." Alistair did not wait for a reply before slipping back into Elinora's room.

Miraculously, she still slept.

He put on his boots, straightened his hair and swung on the huntsman's vest he preferred to wear when riding in warm weather. Armor would have been better, but it would have taken time, and impatience was winning over pride.

In the Great Hall stood more than a dozen Wardens, most of them travel stained. A tall, blonde man was talking to Elinora's second when Alistair entered the Hall.

"… so close that we decided to go on and push on. Wasn't expecting the bloody Ferelden army to be camped outside."

"They're with me." Alistair interrupted.

As the blonde man turned, he said, "And why does a Grey Warden ride with half an army…" Rainer's words died as his eyes fell on Alistair. "You're Alistair, aren't you?"

Alistair smiled smugly. "I am. And you must be Rainer, since we're dropping the formalities."

The two men stared at each other, sizing one another up. The Wardens slowly fell into silence as their hands clenched into fists. Murmurs rippled through the Hall and bets were placed.

"That's enough, you two."

Everyone turned to see Elinora standing in the doorway, with a look of icy fury that made them all want to be somewhere else. Both Alistair and Rainer squirmed, just a little. Even barefoot, in a tunic and form fitting leggings, she could still command the very breath from their bodies.

"Burion," she ordered, "get the Wardens settled in the barracks. Orbert, show the First Warden to his quarters. We will begin inspection in the morning, after some rest and a good breakfast. Agreed?" The last was aimed at the leaders of men, cowed in front of her. They muttered their agreement like troublesome boys, and she turned to leave. Someone blew a low whistle.

"El?" She turned at Rainer's voice and waited. The First Warden gave her a half-smile. "Its good to see you."

She gave him a small smile and nod, then headed for her quarters. She didn't catch the withering look Alistair shot Rainer before following her out of the Hall.

To get to her door just in time for it to slam shut.

Alistair stood in the hall and debated. He'd reached no conclusions when the door opened. She ushered him in with a sweep of her hand and left the door before he entered.

With a massive exhale she flopped onto the bed. "You two are going to be the death of me."

Alistair clamored on to the bed and gathered her up. "I'll behave, promise. Only a few manly displays of… manliness. And I swear I will not go marking my territory."

That got a snorted giggle from her. He trailed kisses down her jaw line and caressed her hip. "Just tell me one thing, darling," he whispered. "I win, right?"

With the quickness of a pouncing wolf and a growl to match, she pounced on top of him, pinning both his wrists to the pillows. At first he thought was cute, until he made out her expression in the weak light of the moon. For a moment, he regretted not setting up an official line of succession.

"I have killed thousands of Darkspawn, Maker knows how many people. I slew an Archdemon. I left my heart behind for duty's sake and now I am Commander of the Grey for Ferelden. I am not some prize in your bloody cock-fight!"

Alistair released a shuttering breath. She was furious, her anger humming across the Warden bond. He had never been so terrified and aroused in his life. He could stay there all night, watching her seethe and defend what she'd earned, but his wrists were starting to hurt. "No, you're not," he started humbly. "You are a goddess. And you'll have to forgive us humble mortal men for fighting over who gets to be your high priest."

Her grip relented a bit, but still she held him down. "Now is not the time for jokes."

"I'm not joking, my love. I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

Her stony expression melted. She released his wrists and fell to his chest. Alistair wrapped his freed arms around her, one hand stroking her hair and one slipping under her tunic. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"No, I'm sorry." He gave her a tight squeeze. "Come on, let's get you to sleep."

She looked up to his face and raised a naughty eyebrow. "Like last time?"

He gave her a playful grin. "Maybe not just like last time. I kind of like you up there…"


	7. Chapter 6 Inspection

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 6**

**Inspection**

Amaranthine – the next day

She awoke to a fierce and familiar pounding on her door. Elinora was alone and naked. But the detail that got her out of bed in a rush was that the sun. It was fully up. She'd overslept.

Pulling on her tunic, she cracked open the door to Orbert's panicked knock.

"So sorry to wake you, Commander," he stammered, "but you need to get to the practice yard right away."

She nodded blearily and closed the door. Once in leggings and boots, she jogged out of her room and to the practice yard.

Everyone in the castle surrounded the center sparring ring. With a groan of foreboding, she pushed her way to the front of the crowd.

Inside the roped-off square were Alistair and Rainer, practice swords and shields in hand. Both men were stripped to the waist and heavily sweating. They had been going at it for a while, and they sported the bruises the prove it.

Elinora was about to call a stop to it, when a hand landed on her shoulder. Burion smiled at her, then cut his appreciative eyes at the boys in the ring. "It might be best to let them get it out of their system."

She signed with frustration. "If I do that, one of them is going to get pummeled into jelly. And I'm not sure which."

"Me neither, but its so much fun to watch…"

He wasn't wrong.

With her best neutral expression, she watched two highly skilled, and rather out of practice, warriors battle for alpha male domination. Both of them had been behind a desk for too long, though it didn't take away from the visceral pleasure of the combat. Both of them were handsome, fit and half naked, sweat making the contours of their muscles gleam in the morning sun. She bit her lip, and noticed Burion doing the same. This was the best entertainment they'd had in ages.

And then Rainer's shield bashed into Alistair's forehead, which sent the king reeling. Rainer closed in.

"Enough!" Elinora's voice rang clear over the excited men. In the stillness that followed she could hear pieces of armor clank against each other as Wardens shifted uncomfortably. "Everyone to your duty stations or training rotation, on the double." She swung to face Rainer and Alistair, still panting from their sparring. "As for you two, I will see you in the Great Hall in fifteen minutes, suitably attired. Am I clear?"

They murmured their agreement as the crowd cleared, Wardens going off to train, soldiers to guard and servants to serve. She fixed the commander and king with a stern and masterful gaze. "If I may remind His Majesty and the First Warden," she growled, sharply saying their titles, "you are here on business, and I suggest we get to it."

With that, she spun around and returned to the castle.

Alistair and Rainer exchanged looks, then went their separate ways. Alistair's valet waited with a towel and poultice, then lead him to the royal pavilion just outside the gates. Rainer jogged to catch up with Elinora.

About halfway to her, Rainer began, "He asked for it you know."

She stopped dead, turned and put herself squarely in his path. "Do you understand that if you had accidentally killed the king of Ferelden, we will probably get banished again? Maker's breath, Rainer! For two hundred years there were no Wardens in Ferelden. We just started to make headway, and then Ostagar happened, wiping us out again and sullying our name!"

"But he wanted…"

"What a king wants and what a king gets are two different things." She started walking again.

Rainer stayed where he was. "You'd know, wouldn't you?"

Elinora paused, but did not turn. "Very, very well." She looked back at the First Warden. "We have work to do."

* * *

Rainer was slurping down a bowl of porridge when Alistair entered the Great Hall. The gleaming armor did not match his new black eye. Rainer smirked into his bowl.

Alistair fetched a cup of tea and wandered over to Rainer, casually lounging against the table. "Good sparring this morning. My people usually take it too easy on me."

"Afraid of mussing your hair?"

"Something like that." Alistair sipped his tea. "It's a pity she stopped us."

Rainer glanced at the king and dropped his voice. "Is it just me, or is she…?"

"Cranky?" Alistair suggested.

"Well, I would never say that to her face, but yes. Any idea why?"

"Lack of sleep I suspect." Alistair took a sizeable gulp of tea. "Makes me cranky."

Rainer shot Alistair a pointed look. "Well, when the king just shows up…"

Alistair shook his head. "I arrived only a few hours ahead of you. Its not that. She hardly slept in months." Alistair's eyes drifted around the Hall. He'd heard rumors of what a disaster this place was before the Wardens came in, but even now it was still dark and uninviting. "I think its this place." He sighed. "While the symmetry is nice, it was a mistake putting her here."

Rainer looked confused. "She never struck me as sensitive to gloomy architecture. Weisshaupt is much more depressing than this."

Alistair looked down at Rainer. "You know the history of this place, right?" At Rainer's headshake, Alistair sat down and told him the sad story of the Couslands and the Howes.

* * *

It took Elinora a half hour to get down to the Great Hall. She took her time getting ready, hair braided in the Orlesian style and armor polished to outshine the sun. In her study, she ate some breakfast and attended to a few details. She had no problem making the boys wait.

When she arrived in the Hall, she found Rainer and Alistair sitting at a table, talking.

And for some reason that made her worry more than when they were fighting.


	8. Chapter 7 Conclusions

_A/N: I think there might be a drinking game over this set of chapters. Every time Elinora has to stop Rainer and Alistair from beating up on each other or fighting, drink. Good times._

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden: Chapter 7**

**Conclusions**

Amaranthine – three days later

For three days, she had shown the First Warden and the King of Ferelden every inch and document of Amaranthine. They'd watched her Wardens train and work, visited the surrounding town and countryside, and wandered about the castle itself at all hours. So far, Rainer had only found minor issues, ones that were easily resolved or explained.

Alistair kept his mouth shut for most of it, but often smiled with pride at her competence. Truth be told, he was just tagging along so Elinora wouldn't be alone with Rainer. But her hard work had not gone unnoticed or un-remarked upon. Sometimes he caught himself competing with Rainer to complement her efforts.

Alistair hated to admit it, but he liked Rainer. The First Warden was a skilled leader, both on official business, in battle, and socially with his troops. He kept just enough distance from them, but Alistair was certain they didn't notice. Rainer had intelligence and congeniality to spare.

"I'm impressed." Rainer closed the ledger he had been scanning and handed it back to Elinora. She slid it neatly back into place on a bookcase behind her desk. "It takes some commanders years to work out the logistical side to running a compound."

Elinora smiled smartly. "Never send a soldier to do an Arlessa's work."

Rainer stood and wandered over to the window, looking down on the bustling training field below. Maneuvers were going well. "It looks like this place can run itself."

She nodded. "That's the point. The next mission is recruitment, which I expect will pull me away from Amaranthine." Her eyes fell on the Joining Chalice sitting on the mantelpiece. "Can't fulfill my grandiose plans for Ferelden without Grey Wardens."

Alistair looked up from the documents he was scanning. "What plans?"

Elinora and Rainer smiled, though his was more like a smirk. "Besides the base in Orzammar, I want Wardens in every Arling in Ferelden, three to six of them, running patrols, that sort of thing. Not enough to be burden to the people, but so the Darkspawn never get the drop on us again."

Rainer smiled. "Its much like the system in Orlais."

"Aren't you worried about the comparison?" asked Alistair.

"Not as much as I'm worried about Darkspawn," she responded flatly.

Rainer smiled coldly at Alistair. "Politics are your problem."

"Anyway," she gave Rainer a dirty look, "once we start looking for recruits, we'll speak to the appropriate parties."

Alistair looked to Elinora. "When do you plan to do that?"

She shrugged and sighed. "As soon as I can. The first goal is to get Amaranthine in order."

"Which it is."

She shook her head. "More repairs to handle. The west wing is still useless."

"I don't know," Alistair mused. "They seemed to like having a wrecked castle to practice on. But maybe improve it as an obstacle course."

Wishing to change the subject away from Alistair's good ideas, Rainer looked to the king. "I take it the Ferelden crown has paid for these repairs?"

Alistair looked to Elinora. "I thought the Wardens paid for it?"

"But its a Ferelden holding!"

"Full of Wardens!"

"Enough, you two!" Elinora groaned. "I paid for it."

"What," gasped Alistair as Rainer asked "How?"

"I had a dowry I wasn't using. The estate will pay me back over time, not like I'm going to need it for my old age."

Alistair and Rainer looked at each other with chagrin, then back to her. Rainer frowned, "That's not right. Have a copy of the expenditures made, and I'll take care of it."

Alistair would not be out done. "I handed you this mess, the costs should come from the Treasury."

"Weapons and arms are the Warden's prevue."

"But the estate is Ferelden."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll send both of you the bill, pay what you want. Maybe I'll even turn a profit," she finished with a sly smile. A gong sounded. "That's dinner. Can you two behave like the mature leaders you're supposed to be for the evening?"

Alistair grinned. "Probably not."

* * *

For the first time since Elinora's arrival, the Great Hall of Amaranthine was cheerful. Wardens mingled with prominent citizens of the surrounding town. Alistair's retinue was dragooned into preparing the feast and serving the assembled, much to their oddly blended annoyance and amusement.

Elinora wandered about the Hall, playing gracious hostess and mistress of the keep. Her mother would be proud to see that not all of her noble lady lessons had gone to waste. It was probably the most civilized farewell feast the Wardens had ever thrown. Granted, she was fully armed and armored, talking more of tactics and politics than the weather or canapés.

She was aware of the eyes on her. In fact, it seemed that everyone was watching her, First Warden Rainer and His Majesty, King Alistair of Ferelden.

Over the last three days, Elinora had caught snatches of gossip. Most of it was about her and the two men that followed her about like a couple of newly imprinted Mabari. Even when not inspecting parts of Amaranthine, Alistair and Rainer had been close on her heels. It was ridiculous. They were two of the most powerful men in Thedas, yet they hung on her every word and watched her every move.

At least they weren't fighting. A few squabbles had broken out, but there had been no blows exchanged since the first morning's duel. The king and commander walked a strange line between comrades and competition, and it made the space between her shoulder blades itch. She knew it was only a matter of time before one of them took a swing at the other. And she had no idea what to do about it.

The lack of fisticuffs had greatly disappointed everyone in Amaranthine. There were too many unsettled wagers out there. Tomorrow morning, Rainer and his men would leave for Antiva, continuing his tour of Warden outposts, leaving questions unanswered, rumors unproven and bets uncollected.

Alistair and Rainer were not oblivious to the rumor mill, and had their own thoughts on how to settle it. All they needed was the right time.

"You're sure about this?" Rainer muttered to Alistair.

Alistair smiled and nodded to servant pouring his wine that conveniently blocked him from Elinora's view. "Not at all, but I think it's a good plan."

"Which one?"

"Both." Alistair craned his neck to watch a portly gentleman approach Elinora. After a few moments' discussion, they left the Hall. "And Elder Fegen has taken her to see his Mabari pups. Let's go."

Rainer and Alistair quickly descended on the head of the center table, which Burion cleared once he saw them coming. They sat across from each other, right elbows on the table and right hands clasped together.

"I want a good, clean fight, sers." Burion squatted at the head of the table, serving as referee.

"Is the First Warden ready?"

Rainer nodded, a cocky grin on his face.

"Is His Majesty ready?"

Alistair nodded, his brown eyes locking on Rainer's blue.

Burion dramatically raised a fist in the air. "And….." his fist pounded on the table. "Go!"

* * *

Elinora had struck a good deal that night: four half-grown Mabari in exchange for studding service from her Finn the next time Elder Fegen's Tully was in heat. Finn was a very popular dog. This was part of her plans. It was only suitable that Ferelden Wardens would have Ferelden war hounds as part of their force.

Fegen had prattled on for at least an hour. Discussion of Tully's bloodlines had lead to his own, which had lead to a fairly comprehensive history of Amaranthine, which Elinora had already heard from him, twice. But Fegen was a man she wanted on her side, and thus she was patient. It was time away from the politicking and whispers of the feast.

When she finally returned to the Great Hall, the mood had shifted noticeably. The Ferelden based Wardens seemed to have separated from those from Weisshaupt. Rainer had a conceited smirk on his face, mirrored by his Wardens. Her own men looked a little crestfallen.

She was zeroing in on a guilty-looking Burion when Alistair intercepted her. He stepped out from behind a pillar, blocking her path with a smile as brash as Rainer's. His arms wrapped possessively around her and he tipped her backwards, kissing her long and deep, in front of the Maker and everyone, again. A cheer rose up from the Ferelden Wardens.

Rainer may have beat Alistair at arm-wrestling, but he still got the girl in the end. Not that anyone would ever dare say that to the girl in question.

As Rainer watched Alistair kiss Elinora, his mind flashed back to a certain night in Orlais. For a brief moment in time, one that would never be again, Elinora had chosen to be with him. But she had never looked at him like she did at Alistair. He sighed and tried to put his feelings back into heavy trunk they were supposed to be locked away in. Her choice was king and command, and he would have to live with that.

No one, not even Rainer himself, noticed his eyes flash from their usual blue to bright gold.

Weisshaupt

Ashling's eyes shifted for a moment from gold to blue. When it passed, she looked to her mother. "You were right. He still has feelings for her."

Morrigan nodded, not for the first time disturbed by her daughter's powers, especially since the child was only two years old. By normal human standards, she should be walking unsteadily and using simple words. Ashling was much further along than that, mind, body and abilities.

Ashling had placed her spell on Rainer with just a touch before he left. He had no idea that she could see through his eyes if she chose to. And Morrigan had no idea how many times that had been.

"My father is very handsome," Ashling continued.

Morrigan snorted dismissively. "If you like that sort of thing."

Ashling cocked her head to he side. "Humans are very strange."

A small chill ran down Morrigan's spine. That was the third time she had heard Ashling refer to humans as something other than herself. The child seemed to have at least some awareness of what she was, which lead to a larger set of questions. Most importantly, Morrigan wondered how much longer she could control the god in the shape of her child.


	9. Chapter 8 Parting Plans

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 8**

**Parting Plans**

Amaranthine – the next morning

Very carefully, Elinora poured the blue sealing wax onto the parchment, right next to Rainer's signature. He pressed the First Warden's seal into the puddle and smiled proudly. "There, that's done. Congratulations, you have passed your first inspection."

Her eyebrows knit with a bit of worry. "First?"

"And most likely only. Its tradition at the beginning of a First Warden's service, but often skipped and almost never repeated." His smile faded as his blue eyes locked on to hers. "In fact, there's a good chance we will never see each other again." His callused hand took hers and squeezed lightly.

Elinora's eyes dropped to their hands, and she bit her lip. "Rainer, I…"

"I know. You've chosen him, and I think he just might deserve you now. You'll have to forgive me for wondering about what might have been."

"It's the 'what ifs' that will drive one mad."

Rainer lifted her hand to his lips and placed a light kiss on its back. He held it a moment, then released it, letting the dream drop away with her hand. Back to business, he squared his shoulders, picked up the parchment, wax now set, and handed it to her. "Keep up the good work, Warden-Commander El. I expect regular reports of your progress. Is there anything else you require?"

Elinora took the paper and smiled at its symbolic validation of her command. "There is one thing."

"Name it."

"About a half dozen more Wardens for the Orzammar barrack. Heavy and light warriors, I've got all the mages I need."

Rainer considered a moment before answering. "How soon?"

"No rush, a few months. Send them once you return to Weisshaupt."

He nodded. "I shall endeavor to do so." He sighed, his hands twitching to touch her one more time, but he resisted. Instead he took a good, long look at her face; those blue-green eyes and the long scar the Archdemon had left her. He would never forget them. "Good-bye."

And with that, First Warden Rainer departed Elinora's study, and quite possibly her life.

* * *

Alistair stood by the First Warden's horse, waiting for him. The look of surprise on Rainer's face amused him greatly. "Can't let you leave without saying farewell. It would be rude." Alistair grinned and held out a hand.

Rainer took it with a firm handshake. "Its good to see the king of Ferelden has some manners, otherwise she'll beat them into you."

Alistair locked eyes with Rainer. "It was good to meet you."

Rainer returned Alistair's stare. "And you. Take care of her."

"You and I both know that she doesn't need taking care of, but I shall endeavor to do so."

Rainer paused a moment at hearing his own words to Elinora echoed back. He shrugged and mounted up. "One thing, your majesty."

"Yes?" Alistair asked.

"Any idea whatever happened that apostate and her child?"

Alistair's heart froze. He had successfully put Morrigan and that night out of his mind. They were not memories he wanted to revisit. "None."

Rainer repressed the smirk he wanted to wear. That little question had not only deflated the king, but also confirmed what he and Morrigan suspected. They did not want to find her. "Please let me know if you ever do. There are some questions we'd like answered."

"You're not the only one," Alistair muttered. He rallied himself and nodded to Rainer. "Safe journey."

"To you as well, your majesty." Rainer spurred his horse and rode out of Amaranthine followed by his Wardens.

Alistair watched them go, a cold dread settling into the pit of his stomach. The only cure he knew was just upstairs in the woman he loved, despite any other who had tried to replace her. He tried to focus his thoughts on the future, their future, but couldn't help thinking that the past might just be coming back to haunt them.

* * *

"I have an idea," Alistair whispered as he ran his fingers through Elinora's hair, now longer than he'd ever known it. He liked it; soft chestnut tresses slightly wavy from their day in that complicated braid.

She shifted to snuggle a bit closer to him. "Hm?"

"You need to recruit, and I've barely left Denerim since being crowned. So, let's go together?" That wasn't half as coherent has he had wanted it to be.

"Hm," she mumbled again. "Wait." She propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him in the darkness. "What?"

"I make a royal progress around Ferelden, and you tag along recruiting along the way." That made more sense.

She raised an eyebrow. "Tag along?"

"Alright, something more official then. Um, accompany my majesty as… oh, honor guard, looking for new Wardens as we go."

Elinora considered, tapping a finger on Alistair's chest. "It would look like an endorsement of the Wardens by the crown, which could be helpful with reluctant Arls and Banns."

"I don't think I could endorse the Wardens anymore than I already have, but I'll try." He smiled playfully. "Know what else it means?"

She was thinking, her mind wrapping around the logistics of such a trip. Duty her first thought, as always. "What?"

Alistair pulled her close then rolled, shifting her underneath him. He lightly bumped her nose with his own. "We get to be together for months, on the road, just like old times."

She stroked his cheek. "But with royal servants and decent food. Paradise."

"Anywhere I'm with you is paradise." The line may have been silly, but it didn't make it any less true. His kiss told her that and a thousand other endearments. The leg that wrapped around his waist told him that she wanted him. He would give her everything she wanted, everything that was in his power to give, and then maybe a few things more. He'd steal darkness from the sun if she wanted it.

He would make this work, he vowed it.


	10. Chapter 9 Maternal Instincts

_A/N: I apologize for the delay. I've been feeling under the weather and uninspired, but I cannot punish you, dear readers, for my ennui. So, on we merrily go!_

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 9**

**Maternal Instincts**

Denerim – one month later

It took Elinora a month to leave Amaranthine and get to Denerim. Despite the approval of her commander and king, there were still loose ends that needed to be tied up or snipped off all together. A few carrots and sticks later, and the place was running to her satisfaction. The castle would likely still be standing when she returned to it.

Unfortunately, Alistair was having his own difficulties getting away, which would set them back at least a fortnight. Worse, he kept dodging her questions about what the issue was and if she could help. "King stuff, very boring, but should be done soon. Why don't you start your recruiting in Denerim?"

And so she spent a good amount of her days watching for those who could become Grey Wardens. She would go into the city accompanied by Vallis, Alcina and Bittan, talking to potentials and those who were just curious. Aldo, back from the Circle just in time to head for Denerim, and Maphisa would hold down a single location in the selected part of the city for the day to serve as a reference and rendezvous point. The bartenders of Denerim were getting to know them well.

After three days of roaming, the Grey Wardens held a fighter's circle in the shadow of Fort Drakon. Interested parties were whittled down to true candidates. A half dozen men and women passed her inspection.

Elinora, unwilling to have another Ser Jory, issued them a warning. "Becoming a Grey Warden is permanent. You will never be able to return to the life you knew. If you choose to join us, you choose to leave behind friend and family, life and livelihood. You will find new purpose with us, but away from where you started."

Since there were no Darkspawn in the immediate area to hunt, and therefore no blood for the Joining, she gave them two options. If they were ready to leave their current lives behind, then they could stay and train with her Wardens, most likely coming with them on progress with the king. If they were not ready, they were to go to Amaranthine when they were. Each took with them a small, silver token, stamped with the Grey Warden griffon, by which they would be recognized at the gates.

She also informed the two women that they would unlikely have children, and would be highly discouraged from trying. Oddly, they seemed more concerned about what it meant for Elinora and Alistair, and the great Grey Warden romance.

When she wasn't prowling for potentials, Elinora was sorting out the old Warden compound hidden in a warehouse in the Market District. There wasn't much there; they'd cleaned it out pretty well during The Blight. She did find records, but a cursory glance told her nothing interesting. She gave them to Aldo for a more detailed read.

Evenings at the palace were much more fun. Alistair and Elinora were behaving like and old married couple when they weren't acting like besotted teenagers. Everyone who wasn't a potential match for Alistair found it adorable, though they did garner a few pert comments for impropriety.

Most importantly of all, Alistair took Elinora to Tranquility House to met his children, all four of them. Aurora and Wynn were only four months old and quite possibly the prettiest babies Elinora had ever seen. At twenty months, Maricen toddled about fairly steadily and had much to say about the world, even though it didn't make much sense. She could see Anora in them, especially the girls. Maricen, dark haired and blue-eyed, didn't look anything like Alistair.

Cailin, tall for four years old, watched Elinora closely as she played with his cousin-siblings. He approached her carefully, drawn by the sinuous dagger she wore. The Rose's Thorn had seen the Battle of Denerim and slain many Darkspawn, which fascinated the boy. Elinora could see his handsome father all over Cailin's features, but that guarded watchfulness must have come from his mother. Or his experience, which just made her want to gather him up and cuddle him all the more. The boy had known far too much loss in his young life.

They stayed two nights at Tranquility House. Alistair fretted about leaving the children behind while he made his grand progress. Elinora thought for a moment that he might reconsider, until three nursemaids assured him that it would be all right. When he returned, they told him, the children would be more fun to play with. Elinora wasn't sure that Alistair bought it. She wasn't sure that she bought it, especially not for one of them.

Apparently, she did have maternal instincts.

"Darling," she started as they lay together that night. "What if we took Cailin with us?"

Alistair sat up and blinked at her. "You mean it?"

"Yes, I think he would enjoy it. And I think you would feel better."

He flopped back down and embraced her tightly. "You're the most wonderful thing ever." He sighed, at once both relieved, joyous and a little sad. "Of all of them, Cailin's the one I worry about the most. Is it wrong that I worry about my nephew over my daughters and Maricen?"

"You don't think of Cailin as your nephew and everyone knows it. You can see what he's feeling, even though he's so quiet about it, at least so far as I've seen." She took a deep breath and decided to add the part she'd been going over in her head since meeting the boy. "And he's a chance to protect what you couldn't save the first time."

"What do you mean?"

"After Ostagar, you blamed yourself a lot for what happened to King Cailan and Duncan, even though it was far out of our control to save them. You're hoping that raising his son will make up for it a bit."

Alistair was quiet a moment. "That was far too insightful for my comfort. Let's talk about something else."

She kissed the tender spot where his neck met his jaw. "Let's not talk at all."

He chuckled lowly. "Woman, you are insatiable."


	11. Chapter 10 Going to the Chantry

**Duty's Choice: The Bastard of Ferelden - Chapter 10**

**Going to the Chantry**

Denerim – two days later

"Any idea why he wanted to meet at the Great Chantry?' Elinora pushed back a stray strand of hair as she watched two elves shoot at a target against the side of a burned out building. They were both good, though Maker knew how they became so. A great many Alienage residents had turned out to show their interest and skills. Nothing like life-shorting military service to get you out of your humble beginnings.

Bittan shrugged. "He said something about arriving cleaned up in and your best armor. Have you been wanting to see the Grand Cleric for something?"

"Nothing in particular. Give these two tokens and the usual speech." She turned and headed back to the palace, mentally preparing herself for a dull dinner party.

The looming threat of boredom was completely obliterated when she set foot in the Great Chantry's courtyard. Zevran and Oghren stood there, having the same argument they'd had during the Blight: wine or ale.

Zevran threw his arms up in a huff. "But if I wanted bread, why would I not just have bread?"

Oghren's mustaches bristled. "Because you're thirsty, you pike-twirling light-foot!"

The same argument. And it would probably end the same way: both of them too drunk to choose.

"Ahem," she half-coughed, a broad smile on her lips. The elf and dwarf turned.

Zevran had her in a hug before she could say anything else. He pulled away and gave her a long look from head to toe. "Much better than the last time I saw you, but still no bosom." He rapped his knuckles on her breastplate. She scowled at him.

"Sodding practical, if you ask me." Oghren stepped up and shook her hand, then held on to it to give her gauntlet a closer examination. "Good craftsmanship too. Solid, but light." He bounced her hand in his own.

Elinora took back her hand and placed it on her hip. "If you two are quite done dissecting my armor, would you please tell me what in the Maker's name you are doing here?"

Oghren and Zevran exchanged looks, then spoke at the same time.

"Passing through."

"Queen's business."

Elinora raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Right."

Oghren cleared his throat. "Queen Sereda is wondering when you'll be coming back to set up your Grey Warden outpost."

"A few months yet. Orzammar is on the tour, but we're going south first. You should have some Wardens coming through before me, though."

"I'll let her know," Oghren said as the great door of the Chantry creaked open.

"Fergus?" The bottom dropped out of Elinora's stomach, terrified for some sort of bad news, but her brother smiled. Butterflies emerged from the opened pit of her stomach as a new thought crossed her mind. "He didn't? He's not…"

"Sneak attack, dear sister." Fergus kissed her cheek. "Or should I say surprise wedding? Either way." He offered his arm and led her into the Chantry, followed by Zevran and Oghren. She could hear singing; a familiar, sweet female voice. The world blurred a little around the edges, but Fergus held her steady as he led her down the aisle.

By the mid-point of the massive Chantry hall, she could make out familiar faces among the handful of people assembled. Her Warden contingent was there, including Burion who she had left in charge of Amaranthine. Alcina and Maphisa were grinning like adolescent girls and Aldo looked proud. Across from them were Eamon and Teagan, both smiling. Cailin stood next to his great-uncles, bouncing a little. Even Finn was here, grinning a doggy grin, sitting at Leliana's feet as she finished the song.

And of course, before the altar stood Alistair, looking as handsome and proud as she'd ever seen him. He reached out a golden gauntleted hand for hers as she and Fergus approached the altar. She took it. Fergus stepped aside as Alistair pulled her close and bent his forehead to hers, resting it there a moment.

The world fell away. They'd won. They would be together now and no arguments about timing could stop them. Nothing could come between them now.

A priest stepped before them and raised her hand high. "Andraste reached her hand to the Maker, and said…"

"STOP!"

Alistair and Elinora were startled out of their rapture. The crowd swiveled to find the source that had called a halt to the ceremony. Barreling out of the vestry was the Grand Cleric herself, followed by two Templars. Elinora only recognized her by her robes; it was not the same Grand Cleric that presided of Alistair's coronation or the Landsmeet that had put him on the throne. The woman was much younger, with a very pinched look about her, though her eyes flamed.

"Cease and desist this ceremony at once! Remove yourselves from this Chantry!" she ordered shrilly.

Alistair's eyes were wide with shock. "Your eminence, what is the meaning of this?"

The Cleric drew herself up and gave Alistair a very dark look. "The Divine has sent orders from the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux. Wardens are not to marry, especially each other. The Chantry will not recognize such a union, nor the offspring of such a union."

Alistair's jaw worked, but no sound emerged, too stupefied with horror. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"You can't do that!" yelled Aldo.

The Grand Cleric turned her glare to him. "Silence, mage. Or my Templars will silence you permanently!"

There were gasps and Elinora heard her Wardens shift, reaching for weapons, as one of their own was threatened. She raised a hand, signaling them to hold. Bloodshed would be no help.

"How could you?" Elinora's voice was low, controlled and icy. "After all we've been through." Her rage choked on a pragmatic thought. "What about his children?"

"We made an exception, for the good of Ferelden," the Cleric said coldly. "There is no further need to do so again. Now leave."

"Why?" Alistair's voice hitched. Remembering he was king, he cleared his throat and straightened. "I order you…"

"I answer to a higher authority than you, boy." The Cleric's eyes narrowed. "My orders come from the Maker."

Eamon's voice, heavy with suspicion, called out over the rumbling filling the hall. "Your orders come from the Divine in Orlais."

The Cleric set her jaw. "They are the same, and unless you want the might of the Maker against you, I suggest you leave. Now."

Alistair looked between the Grand Cleric and Elinora, deeply torn about what to do. She tugged his body close to hers. "You do not need trouble with the Chantry." She rested her hand on his cheek, forcing his eyes to focus on hers. "And I don't need their approval." With a final contemptuous glare for the Grand Cleric, Elinora took Alistair's hand and lead him away.

The guests filed out behind them, most giving the Grand Cleric a sharp look as they departed. Her Wardens were furious, doubly insulted by the treatment of their commander and her Warden lover, and the threat to one of their own. Burion and Aldo were the last to leave the Chantry. The look they gave the Grand Cleric should have melted her.

Eamon caught up to the unhappy couple, Leliana close on his heels. "We'll fix this, I promise you," he growled.


	12. Chapter 11 Love Will Tear Us Apart, Ag

**Chapter 11**

**Love Will Tear Us Apart, Again**

Denerim – that evening

The carriage ride back to the palace was painful. Elinora sat close to Alistair, but he wouldn't look at her. His eyes remained on the Great Chantry, filled with hurt and disappointment. She held his hand and did not push the issue. Eamon, Teagan and Leliana remained silent as well. The situation was as fragile as it was awful, and no one knew what to do about it.

Afternoon was fading into evening when they reached the palace to find preparations for a wedding feast at a stand still. A runner had brought the news ahead of them, but no instructions. Alistair's face fell a little further.

Eamon placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "We'll take care of this." Alistair nodded once and left, his confused valet in his wake.

Elinora looked around the Great Hall. Tables were set for a sizeable party, bigger than the one at the Chantry, but not by much. Food was laid out and she could smell more wafting up from the kitchens. She called the servants to her.

"What you've heard is true; the Chantry stopped our wedding. While we may lack something to celebrate, we will not let your efforts go to waste. Feed all who come. Do not disturb his majesty tonight for anything less than an invasion. Or me, for that matter." With a glance to Eamon, who nodded in return, she departed for her rooms.

Leliana and Zevran followed close on her heels. "What are you going to do?" the bard asked gently.

With a cautious look to Leliana, Zevran started, "If you like, I could…"

"No." Elinora stopped and looked to the two of them, both well meaning and poorly timed. "We shall take only appropriate action in this situation. If you two wish to be of any use, you'll get your ears to the ground and find out why the Divine made this dictate."

Leliana nodded. "I think I can be most useful there. But, will you be alright?"

Elinora brushed it off. "I'll manage."

Leliana exchanged a look with Zevran, a concerned one, but did not press the subject. Instead, she hugged Elinora and said, "If you'll excuse me, I have some inquiries to make."

As Leliana departed, Elinora turned and continued down the corridor.

"You don't fool me, you know."

Elinora stopped again and turned to Zevran. "What?"

"You are furious, and yet instead of ending that vile woman and burning the Chantry to the ground, you send spies and give orders. How long will keep your feelings bottled up?"

Her eyes burned coldly. "As long as I have to, as long as it takes. But under no circumstances will you see some public display of woe. I will not cry and rend my garments for the injustice of it all. Speaking of which, I'd like to get out of this armor." She turned and continued walking.

Zevran did not follow. He had his own inquiries to make.

* * *

Elinora's newly acquired maid waited for her in her chambers. Dedra looked deeply concerned, very different from her usual jaded attitude. Though not even out of her teens, the young woman had seen just about everything. With no mother, Dedra's soldier father had hauled his little girl from posting to posting, learning the ways of soldiering, right up until Ostagar. Between Darkspawn and Dedra's encroaching womanhood, he decided to send her to an aunt in Denerim, who was a lower maid to Anora. Dedra had been in the palace when the Horde attacked, and held off a contingent of Darkspawn all by herself until she was able to evacuate with other servants. Between skills picked up during a childhood with the army and training received under her aunt, Dedra was the perfect ladies' maid for a Commander of the Grey.

Dedra got Elinora out of her armor quickly and efficiently. "Are you planning on going down to dinner, commander?" she asked uncharacteristically softly.

"I don't think so. Tunic and leggings will do." Elinora's voice was near emotionless, empty. Dedra nodded and fetched the proper attire as Elinora washed her face, cool water easing frayed nerves. Once clothing was laid out on the bed Elinora had not once slept in during this visit, she dismissed Dedra. The maid gave her one more long considering look before nodding and leaving.

Elinora dressed herself and paced. She hadn't been this much at a loss as to what to do in Maker knew how long. Maker. Chantry. How did they know? Wait. What did they know? Elinora realized she was assuming this was about Warden children, that somehow the Divine had gotten hold of Jurgen's journal, but it could be something else entirely. What if it was, as Eamon's comment had hinted, just a political maneuver by the Chantry? But still the question remained: why?

She needed more information. Leliana and Zevran were already checking their sources. It was time to ask questions at the top of the heap.

Quietly, Elinora made her way down the corridor to Alistair's chambers. The guards simply nodded to her as she slipped inside.

"I thought I said I wasn't to be disturbed." Alistair sat on the ledge by an open window, staring out. A warm summer breeze and the orange rays of the setting sun filtered into the room. He was still in armor.

Elinora put on a soft smile. "I guess your guards don't think I'm a disturbance."

He turned to her, for once not smiling, but he held out a hand. She crossed the room and took it. Still seated, Alistair pulled her to him, burying his head between her breasts, wrapping arms around her tightly. "I'm so sorry."

She stroked his hair and kissed his head. "Nothing to be sorry for."

"It wasn't even a proper wedding."

"It was a beautiful wedding. Was that why we've been delayed departing?" Her smile became a little more playful.

Still holding her, he shrugged. "Not entirely, but yes. It got Fergus here on time."

"That's a relief. He kept me from fainting half-way down the aisle."

Alistair looked up at her, pulled away some. "You almost fainted?"

"It was all a little shocking."

"Shocking? Why is getting married shocking? Its what normal couples do!"

She laughed a little, working to keep things light. "We are not a normal couple."

"And don't I know it!" Alistair released her and stood. He started pacing, anger and frustration surfacing. "Every once in a while I wonder what would have happened if we had met under other circumstances. Would you have even looked twice at me?"

"Alistair…"

"At Ostagar, did you look at me and think 'Now there's a fine man' or was it 'who's this idiot and why do I have to speak with him'? And then when I told you about the bastard bit, did you have to fight your revulsion or were you excited with the possibility of tumbling an ill-begotten prince?"

"Where did…tumbling?" She shrieked on the last word. Her face heated. "If you remember correctly, your majesty, you didn't want to be a prince, and I most certainly didn't toss aside my maidenhead for a notch on my bedpost!"

"Maybe you wanted to ensnare…"

"Ensnare?"

"You said your mother…"

"You leave my mother out of this!"

"But this is her dream, right? Her darling daughter married to a king?"

"How dare you!" She tried to rein in her temper. "You're not making sense. If marrying a king is all I wanted, then why did I leave you for Weisshaupt?"

"Why marry power when you can have your own too? You knew I'd wait for you."

"Wait for me? A dozen women, one wife and three children is what you call waiting?" She was yelling now, and was not trying to calm down.

"I…"

"Oh no you don't. You do not get to accuse me of noble hunting and infidelity in the same breath. You selfish bastard!"

The moment it was out of her mouth, she knew she'd tripped a step to far. But after his tirade, she was not going to apologize. In fact, she wasn't going to say anything else. Biting her lip, she turned and left the room.

Once back in her own chambers, alone, she allowed herself to wail as her world tumbled down.

_A/N: I fear it may be an extra day or two until the next chapter. Had some thoughts that mean some re-writes on unpublished stuff, but I think its for the best *nudge nudge, wink wink *_


	13. Chapter 12 Love Will Keep Us Together

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 12**

**Love Will Keep Us Together**

Denerim – late that night

When next Elinora stirred, night had fully fallen. She had cried herself out, heartbreak catching up to her at last. Exhausted and drained, she tried unsuccessfully to sleep. She lay on her stomach, praying the bed would swallow her up.

Her door creaked open and, out of habit, Elinora gripped the dagger under her pillow. She knew who it was and left the dagger where it was.

Alistair sat heavily on the end of her bed, now out of armor and into a shirt and breeches. "I didn't accuse you of infidelity. That's my sin."

She sat up and hugged her knees. "I know. It was necessary. I forgave you for it a long time ago." She bit her lip a moment before asking, "Do you forgive me for every stupid thing I said back there?"

"Yes." Alistair turned his brown eyes to her blue-green. "Do you still want to marry me?"

"Yes, but more importantly, I want to be with you," she said fiercely. "Alistair, I can't even tell you how sick I am of someone or something else telling me what I can or can't do."

"What do you mean?"

"Things keep getting in our way." Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Someone doesn't want us to be together, someone who can pull the strings of the Chantry." A daring grin ghosted on her lips. "Sod 'em, I say."

Alistair chuckled hoarsely. "You sound like Oghren. But what if…"

"What?"

"What if the Maker really has forbidden…" Alistair trailed off. It sounded far more ridiculous outside his mouth.

Elinora, not the most religious of Fereldens, did not make fun. Alistair had been raised in the Chantry and still kept the faith even if it was with a grain of salt. "I don't believe it for a moment. I think the root of this is far more earthly. And when it comes down to it, Wardens don't answer to the Maker anymore than they do a king."

Alistair smiled wickedly. "That's nice and blasphemous."

"And yet no lightning bolts." She returned his grin, but it fell quickly. "Besides, the Chantry also teaches that the Maker has abandoned us for our sins. I don't think he's going to pop by Orlais and give the Divine new and oddly specific instructions on marriage."

Alistair chuckled lowly.

Elinora squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "When I said I don't need their approval, I meant it. We love each other and that's all that matters."

"Your mother would be appalled at her wanton daughter."

She snorted a little bitterly. "The last few years have changed the way I think about quite a few things. And leave my mother out of it."

He rose and reached out a hand to her. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

He smiled his old Alistair grin. "Don't you trust me?"

She took his hand and got out of bed.

* * *

The single candlestick Alistair carried did little to light the stairwell that circled the inside of the East Tower. Elinora stayed close to him, her hand still in his.

They came to a landing and a door. "Stay here a moment," he said, slipping inside the room with the candle. She hugged the wall in utter darkness. He reappeared a moment later without the candle, but a soft glow emanated from the room behind him.

Before she could dodge past him and into the room, Alistair pulled her close and kissed her tenderly. Without another word, he scooped her up and carried her over the threshold into the chamber.

What was it with men carrying her to bed?

"Welcome to the honeymoon suite, my love."

From his arms, she looked around as best she could. The room itself was smaller than her own, but decked out in all the finery that could be had. Besides the cold fireplace sat a small table, set for two. A sideboard held all sorts of dainties, including a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket of half-melted ice. In the corner was a changing screen and a vanity. She caught a glimpse of something on it, but not before Alistair moved for the opposite side of the room.

Alistair carried her to a white linened bed, covered with a scattering of red rose petals. He was about to set her down, when he paused and said, "Hello, what's this?"

Elinora craned her neck, trying to see what he was talking about, with no luck. "Put me down. I want to see," she demanded.

He set her down the edge of the bed and picked up the object in question; a parcel wrapped in white paper, tied with red ribbon and a tag with his name on it.

With a bit of suspicion, Elinora slipped off the bed and past Alistair to the vanity, which held a similar white package, this one tied with a peacock blue ribbon, and the tag had her name on it. She recognized the handwriting; Zevran's.

Alistair looked over at her. "Shall we open them?"

Elinora thought about it a moment, "Absolutely," then pulled the silk ribbon off. She remembered well Zevran's last present to her. Inside was not the detached body part she feared, but an article that made her blush to the ears.

She couldn't call it a dress because there wasn't enough of it and it definitely wasn't meant to be worn in public. Almost sheer ivory silk created a form-fitting bodice that flared into a very short skirt just under the breasts, much like the current Orlesian fashions. Shoulder straps hooked on the front and tie in the back would shape the bust line. She figured the skirting would hit about mid-thigh at best.

A note drifted to the floor. She picked it up and read silently:

Something to properly showcase that lovely bosom. Wear it in great pleasure. – Zevran

"What did you get?" Alistair's voice startled her. She clutched the negligee to her chest.

"Um… give me a minute and I'll show you." She slipped behind the changing screen. "What did you get?"

There was a pause. She could have sworn she heard him gulp, but maybe that was the swish of fabric over her head as she pulled off her tunic "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he choked.

Oh this is going to be interesting…

Ties tied and hooks hooked, she gave herself a quick look in the mirror. Sweet Andraste, this thing didn't even get to mid-thigh and her breasts had never been so well displayed. Showcase indeed. Her hair was a wreck, half in, half out of its braid, but she held off pulling off the tie.

Lascivious plans formulated in her head as she gauged her position from behind the screen. She had entered next to the vanity, but the sideboard was on the other side. Stepping out, she plucked a strawberry from a silver bowl and looked coyly to Alistair.

Who was staring at a book.

Elinora cleared her throat, which got his attention. She took a very slow bite of strawberry, her eyes boring into the startled king.

Alistair dropped the book.

"Ohhh," he breathed, blinking, "strawberries."

"Ripe, sweet and juicy." She tossed the cap onto an empty plate and sucked the juice off her fingers, slowly. From her mouth they moved to her hair, pulling off the tie that bound it. Chestnut locks fell, brushing the tops of her shoulders.

Alistair was dumbfounded. "Maker…" was all he managed.

She sidled up to him, hips rolling as she walked, and picked up the book he had dropped. Her eyes widened at the title. "T_he Skillful Courtier_," she read aloud. The little red book was an infamous sex manual, derided by the Chantry and prudish mothers alike. "Zevran certainly has interesting taste in wedding gifts."

"Very, very interesting." His eyes raked up and down her body, ravenous with desire.

Elinora took a stop back and turned a slow circle. "I take it his majesty approves."

"His majesty wants to eat you up," he said in a husky tone. And then his stomach rumbled loud enough for her to hear it.

Elinora giggled. "Your majesty needs to eat something up. I suggest we start with a bit of cheese." She turned toward the sideboard, looking over her shoulder with a sultry glance, "and then the main course."

Alistair released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and followed her over to the food. She popped a nice bit of cheese into his mouth before he even asked.

"Mmmm… South Reach Cheddar, very mellow, yet distinctive." He sighed happily. "This is my new definition of paradise."

"Cheese?"

"You, cheese, time alone. The only that would make it perfect is if we really were married."

"We will be, we'll solve this."

"But when? I mean, we've only got so long…"

"And then there's children." She fixed her eyes on his. "I don't think we should wait on that."

"What?" Alistair stepped back, taking in full view of her, watching her body language. "Do you mean it?"

"Absolutely." With a beatific smile, she bit into another strawberry.

"Eat up then," he grabbed another bit of cheese. "We're going to need the energy to make a baby!"

* * *

Sunrise found them exhausted and glowing.

But not pregnant.

* * *

_A/N: This is not the chapter I wanted to give you. That one was much more fun, but my brain has refused to cooperate. After wresting with it a bit, I've decided that I can't let my poor audience wait too long for the next installment. At some point I hope to replace this chapter with what it should be._


	14. Chapter 13 All Along the Watchtower

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 13**

**All Along the Watchtower**

Close to East Watch – two weeks later

The coastal road had not been well maintained in the years since the Blight. It wasn't a well-traveled route even before. The Brecilian Forest crept up to the rocky coast line, which gave enemies far too good cover. And of course, the stories about the forest itself discouraged travelers going over land. Sea routes, even to land-loving Fereldens, were much safer.

Despite the slow going, it had been a pleasant trip. The forest kept them well supplied in food and firewood. A cool sea breeze kept the heat of summer from melting the soldiers in their armor, though they did get doused with the occasional rainsquall. But all in all, a fine time to be outdoors.

Little Cailin had taken to travel like a duck to water. Too young for his own mount, he rode with anyone who would have him, which was just about everyone, especially the Wardens. His favorites were Alcina, Maphisa and Elinora herself. The boy was going to be very charming trouble in ten years.

Most nights they camped. This part of Ferelden was not well populated and a royal retinue was too much for any household to manage on short notice. There were a few small villages along the coast, mostly devoted to fishing and boat building. Runners and scouts went ahead to make the population aware that their king was approaching. The results varied. Sometimes they found villages totally scrubbed up and welcoming. Others showed their wear and tear and made sure the king knew their hard use. Alistair bore both praise and criticism with good grace and kept notes.

The Wardens kept their camp separate from the king's, yet Elinora's tent went un-slept in and was generally used for storage. Each night she slipped off to Alistair's much more comfortable accommodations, and each morning escaped back to the Wardens before the sun was fully up. In the end, she was fairly certain that she was the only one concerned about propriety, and she really couldn't explain why.

On the twelfth day of travel, about half a day outside of the coastal town of East Watch, their pleasant journey was interrupted.

"Darkspawn!" Maphisa and Alcina came running up to the column to report. "We counted a dozen of them, about three miles a little south and west of here.

Elinora's eyes darkened. "Good." She rode over to Alistair, transferring a mildly protesting Cailin to his saddle. "If your majesty will allow us, we'll take care of this, then met you in East Watch."

"Like you need my permission." He grinned. "But I will ask a small boon of my Commander of the Grey before she rides off to certain death."

Elinora snorted. "As if. What boon, good king fancy-pants?" If he was going play, so was she.

"A kiss, in front of the Maker and everyone."

She sighed. She really was trying to maintain some semblance of distance, some professionalism. Oh well. She leaned across her saddle, aiming for a quick kiss. He, of course, caught her and made it a real one. A cheer went up through the column, except for Cailin, who ducked.

Aldo cleared his throat and Alistair released her. "Right, work to do. See you in East Watch. Don't be long."

She gave him one last long look. "I love you," then turned her horse and rode to her Wardens, already mustered on the side of the road.

Bitten had the map out and was consulting with Maphisa and Alcina. "Commander, these two made contact about here," he indicated a spot on the map at the edges of the forest, "and they're moving east."

She scanned the map. "What's that?" Elinora pointed to a mark, not far off the Darkspawn's path.

Bittan looked closer. "A ruin, an old Trevinter watch tower." He looked up to her. "I know what you're thinking, and it's a good idea."

Elinora's eyes searched for the three new recruits that chosen to come with them. One soldier, recently dishonorably discharged for fighting with his superior, and two elves. She called them, Alcina and Maphisa to her. "You five are going go hunting. You are to bring back three vials of Darkspawn blood, one for each recruit. If and when you return, we hold the ritual of Joining, and then you will be full Grey Wardens. Wardens Alcina and Maphisa are to hang back in the fighting somewhat, they are there to detect the enemy, you are there to fight it. The rest of us will camp at the watchtower. Dismissed."

The five saluted, then headed off hunting.

The rest of the Wardens turned for the watchtower, which was an excellent place for the Joining; isolated and regal. It stood on a hilltop, maybe half a mile from the rocky coast. From that vantage point, Elinora could see a long stretch of coastline, fairly deep into the forest, and could just make out the dip that lead down to the town of East Watch. The watchtower stretched five fragmented stories towards the sky, vines creeping in and out of empty windows and doors. A few ancient statues watched over them.

They spent the afternoon setting up camp, gathering lots of firewood and waiting. Aldo set about making the rest of the preparations for the Joining. There was more in that chalice than blood, and he wouldn't tell her what.

Stars were starting to appear and Aldo was forcing a bowl of stew down her throat, when the hunting party reappeared, all five of them.

Aldo noticed the relief on her face. "The hunt is the easy part. Next comes the hard."

She nodded very slightly as Maphisa handed Aldo the vials. "Bring the cup." She loosened her sword and dagger, ready to draw if needed, and marched over to the fire, followed by the recruits. The other Wardens waited there too.

Elinora looked over the three of them, a little bruised and bloodied from the hunt. Bordy the disgraced soldier; his reasons for being here was obvious. Kinna was just barely an adult, as elves judged these things. She didn't want to end up as many Alienage girls did, servants, srcabblers or whores. Cathial was also an elf, but could have been Kinna's father. He'd seen just about every inch of the dark underbelly of Denerim. He had said something about not wanting to die there.

She memorized each name and face.

Elinora took the cup from Aldo and raised it high. "The ritual of Joining is as old as the Grey Wardens themselves. During the first Blight, a few brave men and women drank of Darkspawn blood, taking on their taint, and mastering it."

Looks were exchanged between the three recruits, but no one spoke.

Alcina and Maphisa, together in everything, flanked Elinora.

Alcina started, "Join us brothers and sisters."

Maphisa picked up the litany, her elven ears twitching. "Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant."

"Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn."

"And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten," Maphisa intoned.

"And that one day we shall join you," Alcina finished.

Elinora held the cup at chest level, offering it to whomever would take it first.

To her surprise, Kinna did, and drank deeply. She reeled, Elinora catching the chalice before it could spill. Kinna staggered a few steps before of falling with a piercing scream, her eyes white, but she kept breathing. Alcina and Maphisa carried her off to the tent they had set up for the coming fevers.

Bordy took it next and drank quickly before he could lose his nerve. His reaction was much the same as Kinna's, what Elinora was starting to consider a healthy reaction to the Joining. He too, was carried off to the tent.

Cathial was the last. He took the cup with shaking hands and drank. A moment passed with no reaction, and then he convulsed, like his ribs were being squeezed. Reddened eyes opened one last time upon the world, then closed forever.

With a heavy sigh, Elinora handed the cup back to Aldo for cleansing, then got to work with the others building the funeral pyre for Cathial. She took the silver token from his body and slipped it into her pocket.

She stayed by the pyre as it burned through the night, leaving it only twice to check on her two newest Grey Wardens. Their fevers burned, but they should live.

Elinora knew she should be pleased; two out of three was good, but each death was one under her command. Causalities were a part of war, but she didn't have to like it. And for each she could, she would do the honor of standing vigil as the fires consumed their earthly remains.

At dawn, fires cold and fevers broken, they headed for East Watch.


	15. Chapter 14 Down by the Sea

_A/N: Something wonky is going on with . I published Chapter 13, but it didn't show a single hit yesterday, even though I hit it myself (and wrote myself a review, just to test it). So, I hope these are getting to you and that things de-wonk!_

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 14**

**Down By the Sea**

East Watch – that day

Alistair dragged himself out of bed and the worst night's sleep he'd had since Elinora's return. His room in the manor house overlooked the harbor, not the road into town, which he would have preferred, given the circumstances. Like back during the Blight, he'd gotten used to having her curled up next to him, even if she did sneak off before the rest of camp was up.

He behavior on the road confused him. For the life of him, Alistair could not figure out what Elinora considered right and proper, as far as their relationship was concerned. If he had to, he'd bet she didn't know either.

East Watch itself was a fine town with a good port. It served mostly as a berth for ships to repair and re-supply, though there was a decent shipbuilding business. Lumber came from the edges of the Bercilian Forests, carefully harvested so as to not anger its residents. Fishing and trade made up most of the rest of the local economy. Bann Elroy commented that the Blight had barely affected them.

It was almost lunchtime when the Wardens got into East Watch. They were up two Wardens, but down one man. He knew what had happened, even before he saw her haggard face. He was glad they were planning on staying on a few days; she needed the rest, and he thought, a few days in his arms.

But Elinora was not staying still.

Once situated at The Laden Vessel and fed, she took her two new Wardens to a metal smith. Commander El was starting a new tradition, one that Alistair was proud of. Along with the usual vial of Darkspawn blood, they had their names and the date of their Joining inscribed onto the tokens she gave to recruits. They would wear it with the vial until their deaths. Alistair had a feeling she would wear it after. On Cathial's token she had a small indentation made, to mark how many recruits it passed to before becoming a part of a Warden's kit.

The Wardens took their ease the rest of the day, though remained clannish. Kinna and Bordy were going to get a much more complete introduction to Warden life than Elinora ever did, which included a fine night of feasting and drinking at a local inn. Alistair joined them after his more official duties were done. He was, after all, still a Grey Warden, though he felt a little distant from them. These days he felt distant from just about everyone. But for that night he would enjoy swapping tales and the warm buzz of good cheer across the Warden bond.

Well after midnight and far too much ale, Elinora ordered everyone to bed and to sleep in. They had a day in East Watch, then back on the road. "Hide and Seek at mid-morning. Meet in the Great Hall of the keep."

Alistair and Elinora took their leave for the keep together, even though she had a room at the inn. Elinora was tired and tipsy enough for Alistair to coax her back to his rooms. She went without a peep of prudish protest. More than a little drunk in an unfamiliar town was not really a good idea, but they got back in one piece, thanks to Alistair's guards. Sleep took her the minute her head hit the pillows.

When she finally pulled herself out a deep and soothing sleep, a breakfast tray for two had already arrived. Alistair was already dressed for the day and wouldn't hear of her getting out of bed until she had stuffed herself silly. She was enjoying a sweet roll when the bath arrived. Servants brought in a great copper tub and bucket upon bucket of hot water.

Elinora looked into Alistair's smiling face. "I surrender. Send someone to the inn for Dedra and fresh clothes."

"Your wish is my command," he said gravely bowing over her hand. He kissed its back, then palm, then wrist.

With a small wince of memory, Elinora freed her hand and placed it on his cheek. "Don't you have boatyards to tour, Arls to placate?"

With a grin and swift kiss, he stood. "That I do. Enjoy your morning, my love."

Once Alistair and the bevy of servants were gone, she settled into the tub and enjoyed the kind of peace that only comes with hot water.

* * *

By mid-morning all the Wardens had assembled, as ordered, Bittan and Bordy's heads still aching from the evening's over indulgence. With a nod to the senior Wardens, she led the two newest ones out into the courtyard.

"Most likely you played this as a child, but our version is a little different," Elinora explained. "Its time for you to learn to use some of your new Warden talents. You will go back into the keep and find your fellow Wardens. Each will give you a token to show you found them. If they get the drop on you, they will mark you. You have one hour. When time is up or you've found everyone, return to me in the Great Hall with your tokens. Clear?"

Kinna and Bordy nodded.

Elinora smiled slightly with approval. "Good. Go."

The two ran back into the manor. Elinora followed at a sedate pace into the Great Hall. She turned over an hourglass, kindly loaned by the lady of the house, and settled in to wait.

"Good morning, Commander," said a reedy woman's voice from behind her. "I see you've put my hourglass to work. I instructed my people as you requested."

Elinora stood and gave Lady Eistir the blended curtsy and salute that she had mastered in Orlais. "Thank you, my lady. I appreciate you allowing us to use your home for this little exercise."

Lady Eistir waved it off. "Think nothing of it, my dear." She crisply walked over to the mantelpiece, elegant fingers adjusting an old helmet that sat there, a trophy from long ago. Even at her advanced age, a good bit past Elinora's mother's, she still moved with grace and precision. Elinora had a feeling all else was forbidden. Lady Eistir was a very neat and prim woman. "I understand you stayed with the king in his chambers last night."

Elinora felt her face heat. Suddenly she was twelve again, caught stealing meat pies from the kitchens. But, she assured herself, she was an adult and likely outranked this woman. "Yes, my lady, I did."

"No room at the inn?"

"Um…" This was just what Elinora had been trying to avoid; moralistic old biddies looking down their noses at her.

"I understand your wedding was interrupted by the Grand Cleric, but if you carry on like this, Ferelden will have yet another bastard prince or princess. Is that really a good idea?"

Elinora was ready for this attack. "The last bastard prince has stood us in good stead so far, my lady. Why not another?"

A smile broke on Lady Eistir's thin face. "And excellent answer. Its good to see you've prepared for the inevitable questions if you two are less than discreet."

With a relived laugh, Elinora answered, "I do try. I blame last night on The Laden Vessel's very excellent ale."

Eistir chuckled. "That stuff gets more girls in trouble, always has. Anyway, I'll send someone to the inn to bring your personal possession here, if you wish."

Elinora stood dumbfounded for moment, then stammered, "That would be very kind of you, thank you."

"Not at all." Eistir evaluated the room once more. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are things that need seeing to."

Elinora shook her head. Even now people still surprised her.

Before the last sands of the hour glass had run out, Kinna returned with all five tokens and not a mark on her. Bordy came back with Alcina and Maphisa behind him, teasing him for completely missing Alcina in a guest room. He had one of Bittan's dice and Aldo's bit of crystal, but three chalk marks on a shoulder.

"Either you're going to have to get craftier," Elinora sighed, "or I'm going to have to send you to Weisshaupt to be put on a shieldwall."

Bordy stiffened. "I'll do my best, Commander."

Elinora took pity on him and smiled. "Don't worry, Warden Bordy. We need men who are good at rending Darkspawn from stem to stern as well had finding them before they find us."

He nodded. "Yes, Commander."

She raised an eyebrow at his formality, then turned to the lot of them. "Rest of the day you are at liberty. We muster at dawn at the gate. Be ready to ride. Dismissed!" Her Wardens grinned and then scattered like freed school children. Aldo stayed, putting a hand on her arm and a smile on his face.

Alistair walked into the room a minute later.

Elinora looked to her mage. "Show off." Aldo chuckled, bowed to Alistair, and departed.

Alistair grinned a little broader. "I've got a surprise. Look what the diplomatic packet brought in."

With a bit of flourish, Leliana entered the hall, and immediately gave Elinora a warm hug. The commander pulled away with a smile. "Not that I'm not delighted, but what in the Maker's name are you doing here?"

Leliana's face fell a little. "I have news."

* * *

Once safely in the privacy of Bann Elroys's study, Leliana shared what she had learned. "I wanted to confirm this before I told you, but I've gotten the same story for enough sources that I'm sure this is genuine. The Divine did issue that order, with you two particularly in mind."

"What?" Alistair gasped.

"She had a vision. A young woman, almost a girl, with wheat colored hair and glowing golden eyes flanked by Grey Wardens, an army of them. She used magic on levels the Divine had never seen, and destroyed the Great Cathedral. She described a man standing in front of the burning cathedral; a blonde-haired, brown-eyed man, wearing a crown and weeping. The Divine claimed to, and I quote, 'see the face of the man in the face of the girl.' Alistair, she has decided that its you and your daughter."

His face crumpled, falling into his hands. "What have I done?"

Elinora put her hand on his shoulder, but looked to the bard. "What about Aroura and Wynn?"

"She's ordered the priests in Denerim to keep a close eye on them."

Elinora shuddered and Alistair glared. "Its not either of them," he growled.

Elinora looked to him sadly. "Morrigan."

"So its true, then?" Leliana murmured. Alistair nodded gravely and Elinora looked away. "And here I thought Zevran was just making things up."

"I wish," muttered Alistair. "Now what?"

Elinora bit her lip, knowing what had to come next. "We need to find Morrigan and her daughter, but very quietly. I don't want to cause a panic. And we need to get word to Rainer."

Alistair gave her a look at Rainer's name. "What sort of word?"

She ignored his spike of jealously. "A warning, or at least a briefing of what might be headed his way."

"An Old God," Leliana's gaze turned inward, her bard's imagination wandering. "in the shape of a little girl."

Elinora looked to Leliana. "You said that the Divine saw a young woman."

"Yes."

"Morrigan's child couldn't be more than three."

Alistair sighed with a little relief. "We have time."

Elinora nodded. They may have time, but she wasn't going to waste it.

* * *

That evening she spent several frustrating hours trying to write the message to Rainer. He knew about that night, about Morrigan's plan for the unborn child to take on the taint and thereby save herself and Alistair. He didn't know the part about the Old God, or how dangerous Morrigan could be, or about Flemeth. There were many details he needed, and she wasn't sure she had all of them to give him.

She was sealing up the missive and wrapping it tight in oiled leather when Alistair found her. "You missed dinner."

She didn't even glance up as she tied off a final knot. "Sorry. Wanted to get this done. I'm sending Bittan back to Denerim with the packet tomorrow, and then on to Weisshaupt. Leliana is going to try to track down Morrigan or Zevran, since Zevran is a better tracker. This needs to get done as soon as possible."

His hand covered her, still clutching the bundle. "What about our baby?"

She looked up and into his eyes. "We don't have one, yet."

"Should we…"

Elinora set down the wrapped letter and studied her lover, the man she would like to call husband. "Our child will be different, but unlikely golden-eyed god. And I'd like to think we would raise him better than to go about burning Chantries."

A playful smile found its way onto Alistair's face. "I don't know. It seems that even the most well-brought up children can be troublesome."

She returned his smile. "We'll just have to have one and see."


	16. Chapter 15 On the Road Again

_A/N: Outside of the Ages, I made up the calendaring system. Each season has three months measured between full moons and counted by days. Simple and to the point._

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 15**

**On the Road Again**

Excepts from the journal of Warden Commander Elinora Cousland

9:35 Dragon – Summer 1, 23rd day

Gwaren

What a dreary teryning! Mother would be appalled (you can take the noblewoman out of the castle…).

Teryn Alden has been very gracious, for all that he was a born and bred soldier. Highever and Gwaren are supposed to be military holds, but I never felt that growing-up. But it explains why father was so pushy for Fergus to distinguish himself. Gwaren, of course, was Loghain's. Alistair granted it to General Alden after the dust settled. Suitable, considering the man is a decorated officer. He has a pretty young wife and a second baby on the way. I'm trying not to be envious.

We've picked up two new recruits, one in East Watch and one on the road, alone. Now all I need are some Darkspawn.

9:35 Dragon – Summer 2, 10th day

Dalish Encampment

Being back here brings back memories, for Alistair too. He can't keep his hands off of me, just like last time. At least now we're not terrified.

Cailin loves it here. A big green forest to run around in and the elves have been giving him shooting and hunting lessons. I'll have to continue them on the road. Maker knows, father taught me at that age. He may have been teaching Fergus at the time, but I paid attention.

Alistair has been spending time with Cailin as well. They chase each other around the camp, playing tag or some such. He mentioned to me, far too casually, that it was Maricen's birthday. He's so conflicted about that boy. He's sent Maricen a Dalish bow, the one that young elves receive and start training with; the same one that Cailin is learning on.

Layana has offered Alistair and I a gift; matching tattoos. Apparently its tradition among the newlyweds of the clan. I mentioned that we were not married, and she just smiled and recommended a particular symbol, one for fertility, in fact. A swirling thing that minds me of a compass, vines, thorns, a circle and a square all at once*. Layana said that was the point.

Not sure if I can talk Alistair into this one. He looks at the dragon on my arm rather strangely sometimes.

For the record, still not pregnant.

We gained another recruit from the Dalish, a young male who wants to get out and see the world. Let's hope we can do that for him.

_(*A/N: Yes, that's the graphic on the loading screen on the 360 version of the game.)_

9:35 Dragon – Summer 2, 22nd day

Lothering

Yet another trip down memory lane.

Truth be told, there isn't much of the Lothering we knew here. It was destroyed during the Blight. Rebuilding is happening, but slowly. There's a chantry and an inn already though, The Warden's Rest. I swear that night wasn't that interesting.

Alistair recognized the new Bann with some proper pomp and circumstance. It was very dull. I also caught him telling Cailin about finding and picking that rose for me. I'll have to show it to him some time.

Tomorrow we head for the Circle Tower. I need to figure out what I should tell them about Morrigan, the Archdemon, Warden children, etc. Do I give them everything to work with, or skip some details and hope they come up with something? Aldo has been avoiding me on the issue.

I'd forgotten how much new tattoos itch.

Also, still not pregnant.

9:35 Dragon – Summer 3, 1st day

Between Lothering and the Tower

Ran into a small group of Darkspawn. Joining held, one more Warden. Two more dead.

Also, Cailin felled a Hurlock with either a very good or very lucky shot. He was very proud of himself, as I was of him.

* * *

Weisshaupt – about the same time

Bittan stared at the grim fortress he had called home for many years and sighed. He was surprised how little he missed it. Amaranthine, with all its flaws, had been something new, something to work for. Weisshaupt was always Weisshaupt, marshal and cold.

He pulled on the bell chain hard, just like it most annoyed the gatekeepers. He heard the swearing first, then the drag of the gate opening. "What?" demanded the Warden who answered.

"I leave for just a few months and everyone forgets their bloody manners. I would have expected better from you, Onfroi."

"Bittan!" The Wardens embraced each other with the warmth that only come from fighting side by side. "I thought you were following the girl in Ferelden."

Bittan smiled. "I was, but she sent me here with a message for the First."

Onfroi ushered Bittan in and closed the gate. "Well, you'll have to make do with the second. Rainer's still traipsing about Thedas inspecting the garrisons."

"Still?" Bittan asked with a frown. "I would have thought he'd been back by now."

Onfroi shrugged as he pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. "Apparently there was quite a party in Antiva."

"Wouldn't want to miss that." As the Wardens walked into the Hall, a flurry of shouted greetings assaulted Bittan. He shook hands, slapped backs and made promises to drink together later, once his mission was complete. Onfroi led him up to the Second's office.

The office was much neater and austere than it had been when Rainer had been Second. Wagner was a man who liked things uncluttered and in order. The shaven-headed mage sat behind his desk, making a list of supplies for the coming winter. Bittan had only met Wagner briefly and was not keen to make further acquaintance. Aldo spoke highly of his skills as a mage and administrator, but the man was about as warm as the northern tower on a winter night.

Wagner looked up at their entrance. "Warden Bittan, is it? Recently assigned to Ferelden and Commander Elinora. What does she want?"

Bittan saluted. "Commander El wants this delivered to First Warden Rainer. She said its important." Bittan produced the wrapped message and offered it to Wagner, who practically snatched it out of his hands.

Wagner removed the protective oiled leather and looked at the seal on the parchment: a griffin with a stylized 'F' for Ferelden. He set it aside. "I'll see to it. Warden Bittan, I received a request from the First Warden some time ago for some men to aid in the establishment of a garrison in Orzammar."

"Yes, Commander," Bittan replied. "El wants something like the Crag set up."

"I take it you wish to return to your assignment."

"In Ferelden? Yes, Commander."

Wagner folded his hands and rested his chin on them. "Why?"

Bittan's brow furrowed, but he answered anyway. "Weather's nice, ale's good and there's a lot of work that needs doing. Even have a few Darkspawn pop up every now and again, leftovers from the Blight."

"And your Commander?"

Bittan met the mage's dark eyes. "Excellent. Has us on fine training drills in Amaranthine, mixed tactics, runs the estate like she was born to it, which, I suppose she was. Now that its all squared away, she's accompanying the king on a progress through Ferelden in order to recruit. We had two new Wardens when I left."

Wagner frowned. He could find nothing wrong in Bittan's report. "And is everyone as smitten with her as the First Warden and, I daresay, you are?"

Bittan stiffened and gave Wagner a look that could have gotten thrown into the brig for insubordination. "Smitten? I can speak only for myself, Commander, but I am not smitten with Warden Commander El. She does her job well and I'd follow her orders from one end of the Deep Roads to the other, but it has nothing to do with being smitten. Besides, the only one she has eyes for is his majesty, King Alistair."

"Ah, the Grey Warden king." Wagner focused on the missive on his desk, now doubly curious what was in it. "Warden Bittan, you will return to Ferelden via Orzammar. Find three more to accompany you. Dismissed."

With a salute, Onfroi and Bittan left the office, closing the door behind them.

Wagner picked up the sealed letter and spun it in his hands for a moment. With a flick of his thumb, he opened it.

* * *

With a thump, Bittan put down his tankard. "Life under Wagner must be fun."

Onfroi rolled his eyes and took a long pull of his beer, emptying the mug. He slid it to Bittan, saying, "Get me another and I may tell tales out of school."

Bittan chuckled and took both their tankards to the keg at the back of the Hall. While Ferelden's ale was good, it didn't quite have the bite of beers of the Anderfels. Bittan intended to get as much as he could be starting for Orzammar.

He'd just topped off the second mug when he saw her.

A tall woman, dark hair twisted up on the back of her head, and amber eyes. She was beautiful, but in a way that minded him more of a queen than a real woman. Behind her walked a large, burly Warden with a small child on his shoulders. A little girl with honey hair and eyes like her mother's.

No. Not like her mother's. The girl's were gold.

A shiver ran up Bittan's spine. He took a swig of his beer, hoping it would steady him as he moved through the room back to Onfroi.

"Who is that and what is she doing here?"


	17. Chapter 16 Nothing but the Truth

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 16**

**Nothing but the Truth**

The Circle Tower – two months after East Watch

As it turned out, Elinora didn't have to decide what to tell the mages and what not to.

They already knew.

After a very cordial greeting, Alistair was lead off to the Senior Enchanter's study and Elinora to her quarters, or so they were told. Three steps into a room that most definitely was not a bedroom, the doors slammed shut behind her.

Questions had only managed to form, when something smashed at her feet. A glow appeared around her, a pale blue bubble. A fine mist rose from the broken flask on the floor, but force field around her kept it and her contained.

"What?" she coughed. The mist was translucent and cool, pleasantly scented like lavender.

A mage she vaguely recognized, a woman with auburn hair, approached with a grim expression. "My apologies, Warden Commander, but we have some questions."

Elinora coughed again. "So you're poisoning me?"

The mage shook her head. "Its just a little something to loosen the tongue, usually saved for naughty apprentices."

A lightheadedness overwhelmed Elinora for a moment, like she'd had one too many ales just a little too fast. Nothing like the drunken truth. "Let's get this over with," she growled. "I'd like to get to bed sometime soon."

"Do you know of the Divine's vision?" came from a voice behind her.

"Yes." She would keep her answers simple and limited.

"Who is the girl in the Divine's vision?"

Elinora fought it, but the words tumbled out of her mouth. "The daughter of Alistair and an apostate mage named Morrigan…"

The question continued like that for what seemed like hours. There were many she couldn't answer due to simple lack of information, ones about magic far too complex for someone not trained in their ways. She had no idea what sorts of magics were used in the ritual. The collected mages made notes and exchanged looks. Finally, they seemed to run out of questions. All but the auburn haired mage, who was studying her closely.

"Is it true that you and King Alistair wish to have a child?"

Elinora, for once in all this, hesitated. "Yes."

The mage cocked her head to the side in puzzlement. "What are you afraid of?"

Jaw clamped shut, hands curled into fists, Elinora resisted. She'd be damned if she would admit to being afraid of anything. The effects of the mist were easing.

With a jerk of her head to the rest of the assembled mages, the woman dismissed them. They filed out slowly as she explained to Elinora, "When I was a child, I was apprenticed to a midwife. I saw a great many births before my abilities surfaced and I was sent here. I know the fear that mothers face." The last mage left the room and the door was shut. Elinora was left alone with the former midwife's apprentice.

She smiled. "My name is Petra. We met during the… incident so many years ago."

Elinora relaxed a little. "I thought you looked familiar. Why do you ask, about the baby, I mean?"

A small look of guilt crept over Petra's features. "Wynne showed me the Warden Commander's journal. I know she shouldn't have."

"Is that all?" Elinora breathed a small sigh of relief. "So, you know what it is that I'm afraid of."

"Death?"

Elinora nodded sadly. "For me, for my child, for Alistair. Or worse, a monster."

"Jurgen's journal was hardly conclusive," Petra said matter-of-factly.

"Which makes it even more daunting." Elinora rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "I put it in the Maker's hands, or Andraste's, or Fate, or whatever."

Petra snorted. "Don't you hate it when the Chantry gets in the way of faith? But that's not what you are afraid of. Be honest."

Elinora looked at the bubble around her and sighed. "I don't know if I can do it."

"Do what?" the mage asked evenly.

Her eyes on the floor, Elinora spoke aloud the thought that had been eating at her for weeks. "Be a good mother and Warden Commander at the same time. And maybe a good wife too."

Petra waved her hand. The force field around Elinora vanished. "I don't have an answer for you, Warden Commander, but to confess your fear is the first step to defeating it."

Elinora smiled. "You really were Wynne's pupil, weren't you?"

Petra smiled and led Elinora to her quarters, which were the same as Alistair's. At least she now knew where the Circle stood.

* * *

"Is it just me," said the King of Ferelden with his mouth full, "or did they already seem to know?"

Elinora nodded as she chewed a fine bit of roast. They were enjoying a private dinner for two, what should have been a romantic evening, but she kept going over in her head who knew about that awful night in Redcliff. They had tried to keep the whole thing quiet.

And then it hit her. She dropped her fork. "Aldo."

"Aldo?" Alistair said with a mouthful of bread.

"Zevran, Aldo and Rainer were there when First Warden Gerlach questioned me after Zevran opened his big mouth. Aldo spent quite a lot of time here after he left Orzammar. Silvers to sawdust he was trying to reverse engineer Morrigan's ritual." Her face fell into her hands. "I'm going to kill him."

Alistair pulled her hands away and looked into her eyes. "He was trying to help, or at least do what he had to for the Wardens. Whatever the cost, remember?"

She closed her eyes. "Whatever the cost."

He kissed her hands and then decreed, "No more business, no more worrying about what's done and done. We have a night to ourselves for once, and it shouldn't be wasted on anything wretched."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What should it be wasted on?"

* * *

Afterglow faded into a deep sleep.

So deep that it took Elinora some time to realize she was in the Fade, and not alone.

"This is really a pleasant spot. I'm glad it seems to stay around."

Elinora turned to the warm, familiar voice with a smile. "With so many visitors, I guess its not surprising. Its good to see you, Wynne."

The old mage took a good look at Elinora, like a mother making sure her child was in one piece. "You as well, my dear. I've been waiting for you, in fact."

"Waiting? Why?"

"Interesting things drift in and out of the Fade, including whispers of a new power rising. You and I both know what it is." Wynne's expression became grave.

Elinora nodded, but said nothing.

"Eventually it will find you, and all the armies in Thedas will do you no good." Her knowing smile returned, warm and wry. "But you have what you need, all you have to do is what women and men have done for centuries."

Elinora's brow furrowed. "Are you telling me that my child can defeat an Old God."

"Prehaps. What I do know is that it will take more than mere mortals to handle this threat. A child of two Grey Wardens is more than just human."

A hand went unconsciously to her belly. "But I'm not pregnant. Petra confirmed that this afternoon for me."

Wynne looked disturbed a moment. "Yes, I fear the Warden talent for infertility may be a bit of a problem, but I have a solution, I hope."

"More standing on my head?" quipped Elinora. A midwife in Lothering had been very generous with that little piece of country wisdom.

Wynne laughed. "No, but this may sound just as ridiculous. Do you still have the rose Alistair gave you?"

"Yes." Elinora smiled wistfully. "Still looks like someone just picked it too."

"Oh lyrium," Wynne sighed. "Such a curse and a blessing. Anyway, you'll need a clear flask, a sprig of elfroot, one petal from that rose and a pinch of Andraste's Ashes."

"Andraste's Ashes? Again?"

"Yes, oh and pure water." Wynne started to fade. "Dash it all. Everything in the flask, seal it, drink when everything has dissolved and the liquid is clear. Good luck!"

"But Wynne!" Elinora reached for the completely transparent mage, her hand swiping through empty space. It was useless. Wynne was gone and Elinora couldn't have touched her anyway.

She took a long look around the Fade island of their camp; one tent, a blue burning fire and some convenient logs to sit on. An imperfect reflection of the campsite they had set up so many times during the Blight. A place that held so many memories, good and bad.

* * *

Elinora woke up slowly. Dawn was just starting to break and Alistair still slept beside her, snoring lightly. With a hopeful smile she snuggled against him and thought of the future.


	18. Chapter 17 The Long and Winding Road

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 17**

**The Long and Winding Road**

Excepts from the journal of Warden Commander Elinora Cousland

9:35 Dragon – Summer 3, 16th day

The Circle Tower

Wynne, The Fade and a magic potion to help me conceive. Elfroot, a petal from Alistair's rose, Andraste's Ashes, clear water. Let everything dissolve, drink when clear. Sounds like a bloody fairy tale. I'm going to do it anyway.

Alistair is very enthusiastic. He has a lot of faith in Andraste's Ashes, which makes sense considering that we've seen them work. I think he had a lot of faith in Wynne as well. He misses her.

I think Cailin caught a bit of our conversation. He was giving me the strangest look.

Petra had yet another thousand questions. She's coming with us, claiming we need a real healer, especially if this works. Or was it especially if it doesn't work?

We leave tomorrow morning for Redcliff.

9:35 Dragon – Summer 3, 20th day

Between the Tower and Redcliff

Alistair can be so impossible sometimes.

I love him, but really? If we want to keep Haven a secret, which we agreed to, then the king and all his entourage cannot go storming the village. But he's still pushing. Hopefully Teagan can talk him out of it.

My plan is to take the Wardens. It'll be good bonding, see how they handle the wilderness. And he can't argue that I won't have a good escort.

Like I need an escort.

Cailin has become sullen and quiet. I have no idea why. He's insisted on riding with me everyday since the Tower.

9:35 Dragon – Summer 3, 24th day

Redcliff

Teagan has successfully talked Alistair out trying to go to Haven. The Arl agrees with me about a smaller party being a good idea. And he wants me to stay behind as well.

Men.

I would think by now Alistair would know that if I don't want to be somewhere, I can escape. Again.

Petra finds this all very funny. She's been poking at me regularly to assess my fitness for carrying a baby. Outside of the taint (yet another Warden secret spilled), she hasn't found anything wrong with me. She should talk to my mother. I wish she could talk to my mother.

I miss my mother.

Redcliff Castle – the next day

Elinora studied the maps spread out on the table before her. Considering the distance and the terrain, it was going to take awhile to get to Haven and then to Orzammar where she would rendezvous with the royal party. She didn't like the idea of being away for so long, but the root of her feelings ran more towards longing than worry.

She had just set aside a map and picked up a supply list, when she caught a small movement from the doorway. "I see you there, Cailin. Practicing being sneaky?"

He came in carefully, not even five years old and already so wary. "I don't want you to go, Commander."

"You don't need to call me Commander, Cailin." She smiled warmly. The boy was so stoic and formal when he wanted to be. Alistair brought out the child in him, but she seemed to bring out the soldier.

Cailin took a few more cautious steps towards her. "I don't know what to call you."

Elinora shrugged. "You can call me Elinora, or just El if you like." Cailin shifted uncomfortably. "What do you call Alistair?"

"Uncle or majesty."

She held out her hand to the boy. "You could use Aunt."

Cailin looked at her hand and shook his head.

"What would you like to call me, pup?"

Cailin raised his head, his blue eyes fully meeting her blue-green. "Mother."

"Oh Cailin." Elinora's heart melted, then reformed with more love than she had ever known in one moment. Every ounce of maternal feeling rushed through her veins. She reached out and pulled the boy to her, crushing him to her chest, wrapping the little soul in protective arms. She felt the tears fall, and did nothing to stop them.

With a small sob and a big smile, she released Cailin, keeping her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Yes, you may call me Mother."

Cailin returned her smile with extra brightness. He kissed her wet cheek and took her hand, his small fingers tightly gripping two of hers. "Come on, we need to tell Uncle!"

Elinora rose and allowed the boy to lead her to Alistair, mother and son running through the halls of Redcliff.


	19. Chapter 18 Stairway to Haven

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 18**

**Stairway to Haven**

Haven – two weeks later

"Whose bright idea was it to put a village in these mountains?" Aldo whined as the Wardens wound their way up the stairs to Haven.

Elinora chuckled and stopped marching, letting the mage catch up. "Someone who didn't want their village's secrets to be discovered."

"Anyone ever heard of hiding in plain sight," he muttered and continued huffing up the hillside.

Kinna offered him an arm and helped tug him up the path. "Didn't you have to travel on Warden business?" she asked lightly.

Aldo scowled. "I avoided it. Mages are sedentary by training, you know. Chantry keeps us pent up in Towers, so we get used to being indoors. None of this sweating and climbing and weather. Just books and… Templars…"

The Wardens stopped at the gate of Haven, openly staring at the herd of Templars occupying the center of town. Who were staring back.

Elinora stepped forward, stood straight and squared her shoulders. "Who's in charge here?"

A Templar stepped forward and imperiously meet her eyes. Reddish blonde curls were longer than regulation would have them and a little sun bleached. His shadowed brown eyes assessed her. "What do you want, Warden?"

Elinora looked around her. Her Wardens had flanked her, as they were trained, hands away from weapons, but ready to draw in a heartbeat. The Templars were doing the exact same thing. She counted eleven of them. "I'm looking for the Ashes, but I'm sure you knew that."

"Why?" he asked slowly with deep suspicion.

Templars. Chantry. She couldn't tell him the truth. "Warden business."

He crossed his arms. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Will I?" Their eyes locked. Seconds passed, waiting for one side or the other to blink.

"Elinora?"

Her gaze didn't move off the Templar, but the speaker was kind enough to enter her field of vision. "Hello, Brother Genitivi."

The scholar looked between the Templar and the Warden. "Cullen, this is a Grey Warden, not some common bandit."

"I know," the Templar growled. "I remember her, from the Tower."

Elinora finally placed his face. "You were outside the Harrowing Chamber. You'd been tortured, caged." Elinora looked at the men before her. They varied in age, but each had a haunted look about them, like they had seen too much.

"I was," Cullen said bitterly. "And now I guard the Urn."

She nodded politely. "Which I would like to visit, please."

Asking nicely did not sway Cullen. "The Chantry has issued an edict about the Wardens."

Elinora raised dubious eyebrows. "I didn't know Templars performed weddings."

Alcina snickered. A Templar shot her a silencing look, to which she responded by blowing a kiss.

Genitivi stepped between them. "What edict, precisely, Cullen?"

"Grey Wardens are to be discouraged," he sneered the word as his eyes bored into Elinora, "from visiting sacred sites, or handling any Chantry relics."

"On what grounds?" Elinora demanded, even though she knew the answer.

Cullen barked, "On the ground that those are my orders."

"I see." He didn't know. Elinora would have bet Finn that Cullen had no idea why he'd been given those orders, and a good soldier did not question his superiors. "Fine." Elinora relaxed her posture and looked to her Wardens. Aldo still looked winded, which fit her scheme. "It's been a long journey for us and its getting late. Is there perhaps somewhere we can stay for the night?"

Cullen was about to refuse them, when Genitivi broke in. "They can stay in the scholar's house. We've got the room, and its only good manners"

"Fine." Cullen still looked sour. "I suppose its good manners to feed them tonight as well?"

Genitivi smiled coyly. "Yes it is, and I think for the occasion I shall break out that cask of whiskey I've been saving. Should be enough for everyone."

An appreciative murmur went through both groups of warriors.

Cullen had not been swayed. "Supper is at sundown in the old store." He turned to his men. "Alright you lot, back to your duties."

Elinora caught mutterings about the lack of duties before following Brother Genitivi to the house where the various scholars kept their quarters. It would be a little tight, but they would all fit. Elinora settled her Wardens and set a watch rotation for the night. She didn't trust the Templars.

Genitivi showed Elinora to a tiny room on the second story, one far too small for more than one person. "I'm sorry about Cullen and the rest. The Chantry has decided that this is a fine place to dump her broken Templars. Still, they watch our backs and do some heavy lifting"

"That could come in handy," she muttered, too distracted by her own thinking to pay much attention.

"Commander," the scholar said lowly, "there is a back way to the temple."

Elinora looked up at him, now completely focused on what he had to say. "Tell me."

Genitivi sketched out the route starting about a mile outside the village and following a precarious path up the mountain. "Assuming its still there. The spring melt might have washed it away. Its risky."

"I'll take it. What about the Templars?"

With a disapproving shake of his head, Genitivi said, "They keep a sloppy guard rotation. It would probably be easy to get through, but its unpredictable. It would be best if we could distract…"

A thump from the corridor had Elinora rushing out of her room, sword and dagger drawn, to find Alcina, Maphisa and Kinna tripping over themselves.

"Graceful ladies," Elinora said dryly.

Maphisa straightened up first and looked to her other two compatriots. "We overheard, and, um," Kinna giggled and Alcina gave her a light smack on the hand, "we can take care of the Chantry boys."

Images of the trouble these three could cause flashed through her mind. "Do I want to know?"

Alcina looked to the other girls, and said, "Nope."

Elinora crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "What's the plan?"

Maphisa thought a moment, selecting the information to share with her Commander. "At dinner tonight, you order that we march at dawn, then go to bed. We'll… make sure that the Templars have no desire to see us out in the morning. You slip out and do what you're going to do. We'll met you at the crossroads about a day from here."

Elinora nodded slowly. "I know where you mean. Are you sure?"

"Yes, Commander," they answered more or less in unison.

This was either going to go very well, or very, very badly.

* * *

The afternoon was spent on preparations and rest. She made sure her pack was in order and ready for a solo trip into the mountains.

"Did you know that there's a High Dragon sitting up there, just watching?"

Elinora smiled at Aldo's question. She had been a little stunned the first time she had seen the dragon too.

"The cult we found guarding this place thought it was Andraste herself, reincarnated as a dragon."

Aldo rolled his eyes. "You'll be careful, right?"

Elinora smiled at him, his brotherly protectiveness so like Fergus's. "It's a cake walk. Stay to the shadows, don't hit the gong and move quickly. You worry too much."

"Someone's got to watch your back."

She laughed. "With so many watching my back, my front gets lonely."

Aldo's eyebrows shot up his forehead, making his commander laugh harder. He bristled and cleared his throat. "Focus, will you? Are you sure about this plan? You know Vallis and I can't be much help."

"Yes, I'm sure. You stay out of it, let the girls cause all the trouble."

Aldo grumbled. "Not happy about that either."

"Handle it," she ordered, then headed off to supper.

* * *

"I hate to say it," Aldo muttered, "but Templars are better cooks than Grey Wardens."

Elinora laughed into her bowl of stew. "I swear Warden cooking is just a way to toughen us up a bit."

"They've had time to practice," Genitivi added. "Our head cook's been here since just after the Battle of Denerim. That's him over there," the scholar nodded to an unarmored Templar with one arm. "He lost the arm on the top of Fort Drakon, gobbled up by the Archdemon itself, or so he says." Genitivi seemed greatly bemused by this likely tall tale, as was Elinora. She rose from the table, taking her now empty bowl in hand.

"I shall have to go pay my compliments to the chef then." She wiggled devious eyebrows and headed over to where the dirty dishes were stacked for washing. After depositing her dishes, she tapped the Templar in question on the shoulder of his good arm. "A most excellent supper, good Ser Templar. I and my Wardens appreciate it." She smiled her most charming smile at him.

He bowed. "Think nothing of it, my lady… excuse me, Commander. I'm sorry we can't be more helpful to you, but the Chantry…"

She held up a hand and continued smiling. "What's done is done. I'm just looking forward now to a night it a real bed."

"I'm glad we can offer that much hospitality." His eyes looked to her face, but not her eyes. He was staring at the scar that ran down the right side from above the eyebrow to jaw. He noticed that he was caught. "Forgive me, but is that scar from the Archdemon?"

Elinora turned her head so he could get a better look. Warriors appreciated one another's scars and the stories that went with them. "Yes it is. Wynne said I was lucky not to have lost my eye."

"That you are, my la… Commander." He motioned to the stump of his left arm. "I wasn't so lucky, but I've managed since."

"Quite admirably, I'd say."

"Thank you, Commander." He bowed again. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get this sorry lot on cleaning duty."

With perfect timing, Kinna popped up. "We can help."

Alcina followed her. "We really should. Its only good manners."

Maphisa made a face, but nodded in agreement.

Elinora nodded. "Good," then turned to the rest of the room. "Alright Wardens, we have enjoyed the good Templar's food and the generous brother's whiskey. I expect the lot of you to be gracious guests and help clean up, then get to bed. We march out at dawn, hangovers or no." She picked up a tiny glass of the whiskey and drank it down in one gulp. "As for me, I'm pulling rank and heading to bed. Good night."

As she opened the door, she heard a splash from the kitchens followed by Kinna's girlish, playful whine, "You got me all wet!"

Elinora stepped out into the night and pulled the door firmly closed behind her. She did not want to know.


	20. Chapter 19 Temple of Love

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 19**

**Temple of Love**

The Final Resting Place of Andraste, Bride of the Maker – that day

Elinora slunk along the cliff face slowly, not wanting to draw the attention of the High Dragon that napped only a hundred yards from her. She was a magnificent monster, but reminded her far too much of the Archdemon. The right side of her face hurt from the memory, and her stomach clenched.

The path had been treacherous, but true in the end. She was fifty yards from the door to the temple and then only one Gauntlet to go through before she had the Ashes.

The Gauntlet. What would it have to say to her this time?

The door to the temple creaked open easily enough, the air damp and stale. She walked slowly through the first hall, right up to the Guardian, waiting patiently as if he had expected her.

"You have returned, Elinora Cousland, now Warden Commander of Ferelden," he intoned in and unearthly voice. "You have sought the blessing of Andraste's Ashes once before, and yet you come again for more. Why should you be allowed twice what most are not allowed once?"

Elinora stood straight; this question she has anticipated. "I believe they will aid me in conceiving a child."

The Guardian cocked his head a bit. "You have been told that this child is important, needed to counter an Old God, which you released upon the world by not dying with the Archdemon. Is that not so?"

Guilt crept into her spirit like a fog, but she shook it. This was a test. "I did not choose this. Alistair… it was not my choice to make."

"You could have stopped him."

Elinora closed her eyes. "Yes, I could, but I wanted to live. I wanted both of us to live."

"And yet you left him to become a Commander of the Grey. Was it duty or glory that took you to Weisshaupt?"

Eyes fixed on the Guardian's, she said flatly, "Duty."

"What was it that took you First Warden Rainer's bed?"

Elinora flinched, even though she knew it was coming. "Loneliness and revenge."

"Not love?"

"I was very fond of Rainer, still am, but my heart was already claimed, and I had a command to take up."

"Very good, Commander. You know what's in your heart, both in dark and light. Be not afraid of it, nor of the day you have to choose between duty and love again. You may continue, though you will find what you face different than your last journey here."

"Wonderful," she muttered as the Guardian vanished and the door opened.

The next hall was empty.

If her memory was correct, there were eight spirits with riddles, each one significant to the life and death of Andraste. But they were gone, leaving behind nothing but niches with glowing braziers. She passed through the room cautiously, waiting for a challenging spirit or ash wraith.

But none came.

It was disquieting, but she moved on, carefully and with a little hesitation. If she remembered correctly, the next test would be the worst.

Last time, her father had stood in the next room.

With a steadying breath, she walked through the door.

On the far side of the room, in front of the door she needed to go through, was a young man.

"Hello, Mother."

Her heart stopped, then restarted with a vengeance, her blood roaring through her veins. "You're not Cailin, are you?"

The youth shook his golden-brown hair, earthy green eyes smiling at her. "No, I'm the son of your body, the child that has yet to be."

She studied him, seeing herself and Alistair in his features. Glints of her parents were there too, and even a hint of King Maric from portraits she had seen. He was a handsome lad, somewhere in his teens, but already armored for battle. Of course their son would be a warrior, just like his namesake.

She breathed his name like a prayer.

He nodded. "Mother, please don't be afraid. Don't let it stop you. I want to be."

Elinora tried to push down the tears that threatened, totally unsuccessfully. They splashed to the floor, even as she forbade them. "I want you to be, too."

His smile grew; it was just like Alistair's. "Say it again, Mother."

"I want you."

And without another word, he dissolved into the air.

It took a few minutes for Elinora to get her tears under control and head for the next room. It was empty and she moved as quickly the stinging tears would let her. She had dried the last of them when she felt the rush of wind blow past her. A gash opened up on her cheek.

Elinora drew her sword and dagger, spinning to find her assailant. The room remained empty.

Then again, when they had fought themselves the first time, their counterparts had been almost invisible. It looked like the Gauntlet had stepped up its game.

She stretched her senses, relying little on her eyes. A blow came from the left, ducked at the last second. She heard her own ghostly laugh echo through the room.

Again, the room seemed empty, but Elinora knew better. She sidled her way over to a cold brazier, its fire dead for perhaps centuries. But there was still ash. She took a handful and moved back to center of the room.

Seconds slunk by. Elinora moved step by cautious step toward the next room. She was five paces from the door when her head was yanked back by the hair.

Elinora spun and threw her handful of ashes. Her counterpart protested as its form was outlined in ash.

Weapons again in both hands, Elinora didn't hesitate to take the offensive. Dagger and sword slashed and struck at the vaguely-Elinora shaped ash cloud in front of her. It cried out with every hit, her own voice in pain.

With a final blow upwards through the torso, the ash-Elinora fell to the ground. For a second she could make out her own dead face, then a wind blew. The form vanished and earthly ash settled to the ground.

Elinora put up her weapons and dusted off her hands. This had been much more unsettling the second time, but it wasn't going to stop her. Not now.

And the Gauntlet seemed to understand it.

The final room before the apse of the temple was the ghost bridge, the puzzle she wasn't sure how she was going to solve on her own. The first time through, it had required Alistair, Leliana and Wynne's assistance to get through.

But this time it was kind. Or had decided that she had already passed this test.

When she set foot on the first tile, the other's glowed, flashing in the sequence that she remembered (there had been notes taken the first time, dozens of permutations). As the circling tiles flashed, the bridge appeared, section by section, until the chasm was crossed.

"Thank you," she whispered and ran across the bridge.

She was expecting a wall of fire in the cavernous apse of the temple, but there was none. Elinora figured this for another recognition of an earlier victory, until she was half way to the Urn.

Flames burst from the floor, surrounded her suddenly and completely, the heat threatening to overwhelm her. She held very still.

"Why do you come here?" a woman's voice boomed through the hall, coming from everywhere and nowhere. "You seek a relic you have no faith in! Begone, infidel!"

This was new, completely new. Elinora was not one to trust disembodied voices. It wanted her to believe it to be Andraste herself, but it could be a demon or a mage. What she did know, was that the voice was in control of the flames, and they were far too close for comfort.

"I do not need faith to know the healing power of the Ashes. I have seen them bring a man back from the brink of a wasting death. I have been bidden to come here again by one I trust from the other side of the Veil. This child must be born."

"And why would you wish to birth a child that would stand against an Old God. You have little enough faith in the Maker to protect his Chantry."

"I do not do this for the Chantry, or even for some vague threat or prophecy. I do this for my own reasons."

The flames vanished.

Elinora took three deep breaths before starting forward, and then stopping after a single step.

Sitting on the altar, right next to the Urn was a woman, not much older than she was. The redhead wore the robes of a priest, but held the staff of a mage and had a wicked grin on her face.

"So you're the great Hero of Ferelden," she said, hopping off the altar. "My name is Sybila, and I baby-sit the Urn for the scholars."

Elinora raised and eyebrow. "And roast visitors?"

"Hey, I just find it to be my solemn duty to protect the Ashes from those who would waste them. Hilarious that the first worthy is you."

"There have been others?"

Sybila pouted. "No. This is the most boring job in the world. But what else is the Chantry to do with me?"

"Did you do something?"

With a flick of her wrist, Sybila conjured a ball of light, a will o'the wisp. "I didn't do anything. They weren't paying attention, and I was very clever."

Elinora put together the pieces and sighed. "A Chantry orphan who became a mage right under their nose."

"Very embarrassing." Her eyes sparkled as she dismissed the little glow.

"Any interest in becoming a Grey Warden?"

Sybila considered a moment before playfully answering, "Tempting, but no. I think a life of quiet contemplation is what one in my situation requires. And this job is suited to my unique talents."

"Very well. If you ever change your mind, come to Amaranthine." Elinora took another step toward the Urn. "Now, if I may?"

A force field sprung up, encompassing Elinora. "One moment," Sybila began. "I've been following your progress through the Gauntlet, listening. How are the Ashes going to help you conceive?"

"A potion," Elinora said shortly.

Sybila pouted again. She was very good at that. Elinora sighed and spilled. "Some elfroot, a lyrium preserved rose petal, the Ashes and pure water."

She twirled a red lock around her fingers, thinking. "I take it the rose petal is from the potential father, and you love him?"

"Yes."

Sybila snorted. "That's silly… and just might work. Considering the Chantry's edicts, I should stop you…"

Elinora raised an eyebrow. "But…"

"But I want to see how this turns out, so I'm going to go away now, and you can do what you're going to do. Good luck!" With that she ran out of the temple and into a side passage.

Elinora laughed to herself and approached the Urn. Reverently, she lifted the lid and took a pinch of the Ashes, dropping them into a flask. With a sigh and small bow to Andraste, she turned for the backdoor that lead out of the Temple and down the mountainside.

The sun was lowering as she slipped past the dragon once again. She wouldn't get to the crossroads tonight, or very far at all if the gathering clouds overhead had anything to say about it. She found herself a promising cave after a few hours of hiking and a good armload of firewood before the sky opened up. Camp established, she stepped out of her cave and held the flask to the sky. She could think of no other water purer than autumn rain.

With a nearly full flask, she sat down next to her fire. She pulled a sprig of elfroot from her backpack and stuffed it into the flask. Finally, she opened the box that held Alistair's rose and carefully plucked off one petal. To her surprise and delight, the rose did not fall apart and the petal did not wither. With a kiss, she dropped the petal into the flask and stoppered it. A bit of sealing wax, just to make sure, and it was done.

She now had a murky bottle of water with a rose petal and elfroot floating in it.

When the liquid becomes clear…

How long would that take?


	21. Chapter 20 About a Girl

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 20**

**About A Girl**

Weisshaupt Fortress – at about the same time

Rainer sat in front of the fire in the Great Hall, tankard of beer at his elbow and a sour expression on his face. It did not suit him. He'd worn it since he returned from his inspection a few days ago. An inspection which had included Amaranthine and Elinora Cousland.

With a put-upon sigh, Morrigan collected a cup of weak wine and sat in the chair across from Rainer. He didn't acknowledge her. She sipped her wine and waited until impatience won. "So, how is the great and mighty Hero of Ferelden? Still having men follow her around like lost puppies?"

Rainer shot her a dark look, then grunted a small smile. "They do that, don't they. I suppose I should say 'we' instead. I've certainly played the part."

"I do not understand you. What exactly makes that girl so appealing? She's pretty and all, but I've seen prettier."

Rainer leaned forward and put his elbows to his knees and rested his chin on folded hands. "It's far more than being pretty." His eyes became distant. "Far more."

"Enlighten me." Morrigan said dryly.

Rainer thought for a moment before starting. He was going to sound like a love-struck idiot, he knew it. "She's capable. Whatever fate threw at her, she handled it. Her parents, The Blight, choosing the Grey Wardens over a king, and we certainly didn't make it easy. When she arrived we didn't know what to do with her, but she handled it. Even when Quennel…"

"The Warden who attempted to rape her?" Morrigan interrupted coolly. "I understand she was rescued by a mage."

Rainer barked a quiet laugh. "Aldo didn't rescue her. He stopped it, but she was a heartbeat away from castrating Quennel."

Morrigan snorted. "Good for her."

Rainer nodded a bit. "After that she stayed even further away from us, but I got her out of hiding eventually."

Morrigan raised and eyebrow. "So I hear."

"Not that, not yet anyway. I got her fighting again. By time we got to the Crag, it was very clear that she was something special, in a lot of ways."

Morrigan fixed her amber eyes on to Rainer's blue, and said, "Elinora Cousland isn't the only special one here. Certainly not the only capable leader." She leaned forward and placed a hand on Rainer's arm. "Nor the only beauty."

Rainer's gaze focused on Morrigan, then at the hand on his arm. "I…"

Morrigan rose from her seat, her hand slowly leaving Rainer's arm. "If you'll excuse me, it's late and Ashling tends to be up with the sun. Good night, First Warden." She turned and walked away, very aware that his eyes, as well as several others, followed her.

That was easy.

* * *

Excepts from the journal of Warden Commander Elinora Cousland

9:35 Dragon, Fall 1, 12th day

Crossroad below Haven

I have returned to find my Wardens in one piece and a little smug, the girls especially. Turns out I missed quite an evening in Haven. They managed to get the Templars fighting over them with fists and alcohol. As predicted, at dawn there wasn't a Templar to be seen as they left Haven. No one noticed my absence from the group.

And now I just wait for the Chantry to call an Exalted March on the Grey Wardens.

9:35 Dragon, Fall 1, 13th day

Just north of Haven

We're being followed. Time to practice ambush tactics.

9:35 Dragon, Fall 1, 14th day

Just a little further north of Haven

We caught ourselves a Templar. Padrac is pretty young, about a year my junior and Chantry raised. Like Alistair, he didn't have much of a choice about joining the Templars. He was sent to Haven because of disciple issues. From the way Alcina is looking at him, I think I know what kind.

I think we may have another test of Warden infertility. As they're both human, it might be alright, though still very unlikely. And he's not a Warden yet.

I miss my boys.

9:35 Dragon, Fall 1, 24th day

South of Orzammar

So this is why they discourage Warden romances. Alcina has taken up with Padrac and Maphisa is not happy about it. The girls are sniping at each other and Padrac is very subtly trying to maneuver both of them into the sack. It would be hilarious if it wasn't such a pain in the ass. They've been lectured, individually.

I have my doubts about Padrac. Its occurred to me that he might be a Chantry spy. While not dismissing my paranoira, I've decided that it doesn't matter. The population is sparse in this part of the world so he as no one to send a message with. I doubt he will find any sources in Orzammar.

Besides, what does he have to tell them that the Chantry doesn't already know?

The Joining may solve all this. Isn't that a bright side?


	22. Chapter 21 Down in the Underground

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 21**

**Down in the Underground**

Orzammar – two weeks into brewing

The bridge into Orzammar never looked so good.

The love triangle had worn on everyone's nerves. Alcina and Padrac were still in the disgusting phase, constantly mooning over each other. Maphisa was in a foul mood, which she was taking out on small woodland creatures when she wasn't snapping at the rest of them. At least they'd eaten well during the long march from Haven, but Vallis had threatened a force field around all of them once or twice, one that would block sound.

They came upon the king's encampment first, out on the edges of the market. It was much smaller than usual as the king himself was staying at the palace. Alistair did not want to burden the citizens of Orzammar with a host of guests to feed and shelter. Guard and attendant rotations were set, and those off duty were welcome to enjoy the offerings of the dwarven capital.

Aldo, of course, requested to stay on the surface. Elinora granted his request on the grounds that he would have to go down to the Deep Roads if he was needed. Aldo agreed, and then found himself a nice place to sit beside the cook tent.

The market outside the gates of Orzammar was bustling. Men and women of all races haggled for dwarven goods and traded for the Surfacer supplies that the city needed to survive. Elinora was curious about how the city was prospering under her new queen, but impatience drove her to start at the top. In the palace she hoped to find both queen and king.

She and her Wardens got a wide assortment of looks and calls as they headed for the Diamond Quarter, some friendly, some very dark. Well, she had been a part of crowning the ruler of Orzammar twice. The first time didn't go so well and the second caused a bit of a mess. What was done was done and she had the future to consider.

Word of their arrival had predictably gotten ahead of the Warden procession. Not three steps into the palace foyer she was tackled by a small, blonde whirlwind. Cailin grunted a small "Ow" as his head made contact with her breastplate, and Elinora had to work to keep her balance.

"Hello, pup," she said, smiling down at him and tousling his hair. "I missed you too."

Distracted by Cailin's beaming grin up at her, she missed the second blonde whirlwind coming at her. Alistair threw his arms around her, squishing all of them together in a royal mass of familial bliss.

"Um, Commander… if you could just…" Vallis didn't like waiting on the doorstep it seemed. Elinora shuffled her little family further into the room and out of the doorway. The Wardens filed in. Cailin greeted each of them, hugs and kisses for the girls and a firm, five-year old handshake for the men.

Elinora raised her eyebrows as she watched him. "Protocol master's been at him, I see."

Alistair shook his head with a bemused look of pride. "Just barely. One word and he's got it. He knows the members of the Assembly better than I do."

She smiled at the boy as he came back to stand at her side. "Good work, pup," she said as the doors to the throne room opened. Cailin tugged at Elinora's hand, leading her into the large chamber. Alistair followed, a sly grin pulling the corner of one side of his mouth up.

Once inside the throne room, Cailin let go of her hand and ran forward to the great stone chair containing one smiling queen. Cailin bowed to her, then stepped aside and turned to Elinora. "Mother," he started with all due formality, "may I present Queen Sereda Aeducan, ruler of Orzammar.

Elinora beamed at her adopted son. "We've met, but thank you Cailin." She saluted to Sereda. "It's a pleasure to see you again, your majesty."

"You as well, Commander. I take it you've come to occupy your outpost in the Deep Roads?"

Elinora smiled over at Alistair, then down at Cailin. "Among other things. But that is my priority."

"Good. We have four Wardens already in residence in the city already and they've recruited some warriors and porters for an expedition. But that is work for tomorrow."

Elinora nodded. "Excellent."

"Your majesty, if I may," Alistair broke in. He took Elinora's hand. "The Commander has had a long journey and could use some rest before dinner, I believe."

With a smile and raised eyebrow, Elinora looked at him. "Oh do you?"

The mischievous glint in his eye gave it all away. "Yes, I do."

Sereda didn't miss it either by the way she smiled. She looked to the boy who did not appear to like the idea of a nap. "Prince Cailin, I understand my guards are going to be practicing maneuvers soon. If you hurry, they might teach you a thing or two."

Cailin looked to Elinora and Alistair for approval, which they gave readily, then, with a bow to Sereda, he ran off for the practice hall.

With their own bows, the couple headed for their quarters. Once again, no one said anything about separate rooms.

* * *

"So? Let me see it!" Alistair was practically jumping with excitement.

Elinora reached into her pack and pulled out the flask, wrapped in a length of fabric for security. It was cloudy, but the elfroot and petal were completely gone.

"Is it ready?" he asked.

She shook her head and placed it on a shelf. "Not yet. It needs to be clear."

Alistair whined a little, but distracted himself with the straps of her armor. He took his time, hands massaging her where the weight of the armor would have caused her to ache. His touch was warm and soothing. "I know you want a bath," he whispered, "but I hope you won't mind a little delay."

"I don't mind, but the sheets might." She took off her gauntlets. "It was a long march."

He chuckled and pulled off her armor, leaving Elinora in boots and skivvies. He stepped back to admire as she stepped over to the washbasin. He caught her hand. "Let me." He picked up the wet washcloth and gently ran it over her face. "Let me take care of you."

And for an hour, she did.


	23. Chapter 22 At Last

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 22**

**At Last**

_Excepts from the journal of Warden Commander Elinora Cousland_

9:35 Dragon – Fall 2, 1st day

Orzammar

Things seem to be prospering in the dwarven realms. Sereda is far more personable than when I first met her, and little Endra, now just under a year old, is cute as a baby nug. Oghren heads up Sereda's personal guard, and, unless I'm misinterpting that look at dinner, much more. Good for him.

At dinner, Sereda had quite a lot of questions about the relationship between Cailin and myself. She seemed very interested in the idea of adoption.

Spent most of today getting things in order for a trip into the Deep Roads. Alistair is pouting about me going away so soon after I just got here. He can't linger here too long, so its best I get my business done with so the whole party can move on, unless he wants to go without me. That usually takes care of the arguing. I can't let him think he can get away with everything, just because he's king.

We march out at first bell.

I record herein the names of the Grey Wardens who go down to the Deep Roads in order to establish a base of operations: Bittan, Vallis, Maphisa, Alcina, Kinna, Bordy, Nuallin, Onfroi, Aksel and Marmion (these last three came with Bittan from Weisshaupt – less than I asked for, but they all have served at the Crag). Recruit Padrac comes with us too, along with assorted dwarven warriors and porters. Aldo stays above until needed. Maker hold them in his hand.

9:35 Dragon – Fall 2, 3rd day

The Deep Roads – campsite

We have reached the former rebel camp. It's a day and a half out of Orzammar proper and another day and a half to the Legion of the Dead's base. A good distance from both I think, especially since a runner could get to either in a day from here.

There's a good amount of furniture and equipment still here, though the quality is low and everything is dwarf-sized. We can adjust.

The layout is pretty basic, but will do, I think. We have a large space where the main passage empties out and a two more go off of it. There's a large cavern off to the side, which will serve as barracks. Down the main passage, heading for the Legion, is a low cave that will serve for storage. The smaller passage leads to another cavern that is a dead end. I haven't been down there yet.

Today we get settled here. Tomorrow I send two scouting parties. Padrac, Vallis, Marmion and Bordy go with the express instructions to get a vial of blood for Padrac's Joining. Bittan, Askel, Onfroi and Nuallin are going to make contact with the Legion. The Kinna, Alcina and Maphisa stay here with me and start setting up housekeeping.

Mother would be so proud.

9:35 Dragon, Fall 2

Deep Roads Outpost – Later

I can't keep track of time down here. We're going to need a solution for that.

Found a dead-end cave just a few minutes hike that is prefect for the Joining Ritual. I'm hoping Padrac's party gets back soon so we can test it.

Alcina is not handling the absence of Padrac well.

Our dwarven helpers and warriors are very useful. The warriors are very low in rank, and I'm pretty sure that most of our porters are Dusters. I'm wondering if any of them have other reasons for being here.

Maphisa pointed out to me today that I sent all the men out 'adventuring' while the women stayed here to set up housekeeping. She seemed more than a little put out from it. I will have to keep that in mind when I send out future parties. I guess I'm not as daring as I thought.

9:35 Dragon, Fall 2

Deep Roads Outpost – Still Later

Seriously, this lack of time thing is making journaling difficult.

Padrac's group returned, blood in hand. Joining held, during which I could have sworn I heard him say, "I didn't sign up for this." He lived, his fever burns. Alcina paces…

Elinora set aside her journal mid-sentence as she heard Maphisa announce the arrival of visitors. It was early for Bittan's party to be back from the Legion, but they were the likely arrivals. She rose to meet them.

Instead of a quartet of Wardens, Alistair and a small escort of men and dwarves entered the camp.

"Darling? What are you doing here?" she asked as she met him with a kiss. Decorum bedamned, one day had done nothing but whet her appetite for his company.

With a broad grin he reached into his pack and pulled out a flask.

The flask.

It was clear.

"I couldn't wait," he said shyly. His arm wrapped around her as she carefully took the flask from his hand and studied it. The liquid was slightly pink, but she could clearly see her hand through the bottle.

Vallis cleared his throat. "Commander, I think we have everything in hand here."

Elinora did not look away from the flask as Alistair rested his forehead on hers. "Thank you, Warden Vallis," she said. "Don't wait up."

* * *

Elinora lead Alistair to a small cave not half a mile from camp. She'd grabbed a spare bedroll and few candles, carelessly tossed into her pack. Maphisa caught the happy couple on their way out of camp and handed her a full water skin and some rations with a wink.

Eventually, this cave would be their supply room, but currently it was empty. The ceiling was uncomfortably low, but the space wide, if irregular. A few scattered boulders along the wall would provide a good place for food supplies and weapon storage. For tonight, they would hold candles.

Alistair slid his pack off, pulling off the bedroll attached to it. He spread it on the dusty stone floor. She laid her second one on top of it. "Just like old times." She smiled at Alistair as he dug an extra blanket out of his pack.

"Oh yes, rolling around on the hard ground, trying not to let all of camp know what we're up to." He shook out the blanket.

She laughed as she lit the candles. "And failing miserably."

He caught her as she set the last fat candle next to their makeshift bed. His gauntleted hand ran down the scared side of her face, worn leather soft and warm to her skin, the steel on the back glinting in the candlelight. "When you went away, I swore to myself that when you came back to me, we'd never make love on the cold ground again, or slink off in a corner somewhere."

Elinora stilled his promising lips with her own, her kiss reassuring and loving. "What would be the adventure in that?"

He smiled slyly. "You'll at least let me take off every bit of clothing, right?"

"Every scrap." She slid off a gauntlet.

With loving familiarity, they shed their armor, strap-by-strap, piece-by-piece. No one walked the Deep Roads without armor, even just half a mile of it. It didn't matter. The soft fabrics of peacetime were almost foreign to their lovemaking. They had all they needed: time and each other.

And a magic potion.

Elinora broke the seal over the stopper of the flask, then pried it off. She raised the flask and whispered, "To our son," then drank down the contents in one gulp.

Alistair watched her closely. "Did it work? Do you feel different?"

She shook her head, paused, and then looked up at Alistair. A hungry grin spread across her face, and then, without preamble, she pounced him.

Time dissolved into a haze of pleasure and eventually into a exhausted slumber.

When she next stirred, she was alone, curled up on their pallet of bedrolls, snuggled under the blanket. Elinora scanned the semi-darkness to find Alistair sitting on a boulder near the narrow opening of the cave. He was dressed only in breeches and boots and his sword was beside him. "Old habits die hard, eh?" she yawned.

He smiled sadly at her. "Thought I heard something. Turns out we have guards about a hundred yards in each direction."

She snickered. "So what are you still doing up? Come back to bed." She squirmed suggestively under the blanket.

He looked away, out into the darkness of the tunnel. "Soon."

Elinora got up and wrapped the blanket around her. A quite and reflective Alistair was just unnatural to her, especially in her lusty state of mind. She padded over to him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. His strong arms pulled her close, but his gaze stayed out into the tunnel.

"What's wrong, love?" she whispered.

He hesitated, his eyes dropping even as his embrace tightened. "Its nothing."

"Liar." She leaned her head against his. "Tell me."

"Its just that…" He sighed. "I just wish we were properly married."

With a nuzzle to his ear she replied, "Me too, but I don't care. As long as I'm with you, it doesn't matter."

His arms dropped away from her. "But it does. I would like just one of my children to be…" The right word eluded him, so he used what came to mind. "Honest."

Elinora stepped back, just a little. "Honest?"

Alistair dropped his face to his hands. "Cailin, my half-brother's bastard. Maricen, Anora's ploy to get the throne. I don't even know who his father is. And this one," he reached into the blanket and stroked her belly, "will be illegitimate too."

She caught his hand and pressed it to her belly. "The girls…"

"The girls are girls. The Landsmeet tends to prefer to put men on the throne for some reason. Besides, they just remind me of Anora." He pulled his hand away. "I wanted this baby to be prefect; you and me and completely legitimate. An heir."

"Alistair," she bit her lip, hating to say it, but it had to be said. "This child can't be a crown prince."

"Why not?"

"The child of two Wardens has a very short life span and I don't know about their ability to have children."

Alistair squeezed his eyes shut. "Its always something."

"What we will have is our child." She pulled his face to hers. "I've seen him, and he's beautiful."

"You've seen him? How?"

"The Gauntlet. It decided to show me the future instead of the past this time."

He pulled his face from her hands and looked back to the stony ground. "It could all just be an illusion, showing you what you want to see."

"Certainly didn't show me what I wanted to see the first time, and I don't think this round was any different. The Gauntlet is confrontational, not comforting." She stroked his short hair and kissed his forehead. "Come back to bed. We have a baby to make."

Alistair looked into her eyes. In the flickering candlelight they glowed more than usual, her earnest desire for him clear. He got up and allowed himself to be led back to their pallet.

When next they awoke, they packed up and left the cave.

And they didn't leave alone.


	24. Chapter 23 The Lost

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 23**

**The Lost**

Warden Outpost – the morning after

Elinora and Alistair returned to camp hand in hand and perfectly moon-eyed. Their self-absorption was ruined by Maphisa running up to meet them, her expression bleak. "Commander, Padrac died in the night."

Without another word, Elinora broke into a run and headed into camp. It was empty of Wardens. She ran down to the Joining chamber.

Alcina knelt beside Padrac's body, weeping. Vallis stood beside her, a comforting hand on her shoulder. At the sight of Elinora, he left the girl's side to meet his commander.

"It took him just a few hours ago. He was raving about pretty-faced demons. I think his heart gave out." The mage reached into his robes and handed her a folded piece of parchment. "This was on him."

Elinora opened it numbly. An unintelligible scrawl covered the page. "I have no idea…"

Alistair appeared behind her and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Its Templar cipher. I can try to translate it, if you like."

She nodded numbly, passing Alistair the parchment, her fears realized. "Prepare a pyre. We'll burn him properly."

"Forgive me for saying, Commander," Elinora looked to her other side and found a dwarf there, one of the warriors. "Fuel is a bit of a problem, for burning so much. We return our dead to the Stone."

Elinora thought for a long moment, then looked to Padrac's corpse. "We'll send him down the lava flow." The others looked at each other, but none argued.

Hours later they trudged down to a lower passage where the river of lava flowed widest, heating and lighting the surrounding caverns. With solemn words, they slid Padrac into molten rock and watched silently as his body burned and sunk. Once gone, they headed back to camp.

About halfway back, Alcina stumbled with a wracking sob, her self-control broken. Elinora sent the others on, pulling the girl to her, stroking her hair and letting her cry out her pain. Everyone but Alistair and Maphisa nodded and continued on. Elinora nodded to Alistair, a silent assurance that everything would be fine. He nodded back and headed up the passage. Maphisa stayed and Elinora would not send her away.

And there they stayed a while, sitting on the stone floor, Alcina howling into Elinora's shoulder and Maphisa holding her hand.

Love was a harsh mistress.

* * *

Upon returning to their outpost, Elinora put Alcina to bed. The girl had been up all night as Padrac's fever burned, held his hand when the Maker called him. She was exhausted and would be of no use until she rested.

Maphisa leaned against the wall of the cave that served as barracks as Elinora emerged. "She should have known better," the elven girl muttered bitterly. "Get close to someone, then they leave you."

Elinora met the angry glare of the young woman. "You haven't left her."

Maphisa gave her commander a confrontational look. "Nor will I ever. We're all we have in the world, and I won't abandon her."

With a faint smile, Elinora put a hand on her shoulder. "You have the Grey Wardens now as well, and we won't abandon either of you."

She could see the doubt in the younger woman's eyes, but she nodded and Elinora left it alone.

Back at camp, Alistair was intently working on the message. He handed her the scrap of parchment he was writing on. "He was spying on you."

Elinora scanned what Alistair had figured out. Padrac's notes dated all the way back to when they had caught him outside of Haven. "He seems to have known what we were up to. The Ashes, the potion, the lot of it. Alcina must have…" she broke off with a sigh, then continued reading.

When she finished reading, Elinora tapped Alistair's translation to her chin, thinking.

"Uh oh," Alistair began. "I know that look. What are you plotting?"

A wicked grin spread across her face.

Oh yes, she had a plan.


	25. Chapter 24 The Visitor

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 24**

**The Visitor**

Excepts from the journal of Warden Commander Elinora Cousland

9:35 Dragon - Fall 2, 17th day

Gates of Orzammar

After two weeks below ground, we have returned to the sun again. I missed the sun. And it's snowing.

The outpost is established. We've three new dwarven Wardens, all down below, as are Askel and Bittan, now Sub-Commander. I've sent word to Amaranthine to send six to ten Wardens to Orzammar for training and to assist the Legion of the Dead. They seem pleased to have us. The Blight greatly reduced their numbers.

Jader next, then West Hills, and then Highever. I'm looking forward to seeing Fergus again.

Also, I'm pregnant. Petra confirmed it when we returned to the city proper. Alistair is practically giddy and Cailin stays by my side, saying that he needs to protect his little brother. Petra warned both of them that things often go wrong in the first few months and we should keep it quiet until we can't.

Predictably, everyone knows.

9:35 Dragon - Fall 2, 19th day

On the road between Orzammar and Jader

I'm slowing us down. I'm puking every mile. Morning sickness, Andraste's ass. There is no time frame for this misery. Alistair is getting very good at holding my hair back. Maybe I should chop it off again. Dedra says she can keep it in an Orlensian braid…

9:35 Dragon - Fall 2, 21st day

Jader

This town stinks of fish and Maker knows what, but its good to be still. My Wardens are out recruiting while I cool my heels in the manor. I knew this would happen; I can't do my job.

Quit whining, girl. You'll do what you have to do.

In important news, Bordy delivered our forged report to a Templar today. He claimed to be traveling when a young man asked that the message get delivered to the closest Templar posting. Poor Alistair. He doesn't feel good about forging the report, but he's the only one who knows the Templar cipher that I trust. And I reminded him that it was all to protect his child. That cinched it.

* * *

Jader Manor – that night

A cool breeze stirred Elinora out of a sound sleep. She sat up, dagger in hand, alone in bed for once. The Arlessa of Jader was one for tradition, which including not allowing an unmarried couple to share a room.

The window was open, a cool sea breeze blowing in. She didn't remember opening it and so carefully scanned the room. "Behind the curtain. Come out slowly."

Zevran stepped out smoothly with a broad smile. "Hello, my dear Warden."

Elinora returned his smile. "You're losing your touch, Zev." She slid out of bed and moved to greet him, but a wave of nausea hit her before she could get halfway there. She clutched a bedpost and fought it back down.

Zevran moved with lightning reflexes to catch her. "What is it?"

She tried to smile. "Just a little sick, nothing important."

"This doesn't have anything to do with the rumors that you are expecting another bastard for Ferelden's king, does it?"

She growled. "So much for secrecy." Zevran helped her back into bed, tucking the blankets up around her shoulders like she was a child. She gave him a withering look. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"I've heard the two are much the same, but that's not why I am here."

"Yes, I asked Leliana to try and find you. We need to find Morrigan."

Zevran nodded and dropped his eyes, busying himself with getting her a cup of water. "Yes, about that. I did find her. About a year ago."

"What?" She sat up and threw a pillow at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He had the good manners to look slightly abashed. "At the time there was no reason to, and it is professional courtesy not to discuss one's assignments with others."

"You killed her?" Elinora shrieked.

Zevran motioned for quiet and listened. No one stirred out in the hall. "No, I did not. I was hired to find her, that's all."

"And?" she whispered.

"And I did, in the Planasene Forest." At her accusatory glare he went on, "and her child." Zevran shuddered in a very un-Zevran way. "I have never seen such a creature."

Elinora gulped as her stomach roiled. "An abomination?"

"No. The most beautiful child I have ever seen, not that I much experience with children."

Elinora chewed her lip. "Wheat-gold hair and golden eyes?"

Zevran nodded, "And inhuman to boot. I couldn't tell you how, but that child… I do not know how to describe her."

She gripped the bedclothes. "Hand me that bucket and think about it a moment."

Zevran obeyed with a quizzical look, until she emptied her stomach. "You really should put this out of your mind, at least until the little one arrives."

She spit the vileness out of her mouth and gratefully accepted the cup of water Zevran handed her. "Can't."

"I did not think you could," he brushed a strand of hair from her face, "but I had to try."

"Do you think you could find her again?"

"I will try." With that, he kissed her cheek and headed for the window.

"Zevran," she called softly. He paused. "Who hired you to find her in the first place?"

The elf hesitated a moment, then answered, "The handsome Second of Weisshaupt. Rainer, I believe his name was." Without another word, Zevran was out the window and out of sight.

Elinora swore, and then threw up again.

Men.


	26. Chapter 25 Changes

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 25**

**Changes**

Highever – one month later

"She can't travel any more."

Alistair looked up from the reports on his borrowed desk. Fergus's desk, really. Petra stood in the doorway, backed by Dedra and Fergus himself. "What's wrong?" he asked, slightly panicked.

Petra spread her hands to calm the expectant father. "Outside of the dizziness that makes it hard to walk, the blinding headaches and the nausea that means she can hardly keep food down, not much. She can't ride."

"What about a carriage?" Alistair suggested.

"Bouncing up and down over winter roads? Not a good idea. And don't even think about suggesting a ship." Petra sighed. "Your majesty, she needs to stay put."

"But…"

Petra put her hands on her hips. "Do you want a healthy baby or not?"

Alistair shut his mouth.

Fergus cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Your majesty, what better place for her to stay? She's with family and this is one of the most secure locations in Ferelden."

"And you have about a quarter of the Ferelden army training here," Petra added.

Fergus smiled at Petra. "Its what teyrns do. And I have a feeling her Wardens will stay beside her."

Alistair considered a few moments, then slowly nodded. "Eamon's pressuring me to get back to Denerim. I'll go, be king for a bit, then get back here as quickly as I can. A month probably."

Petra made a sound of agreement. "The worst of the nausea might have passed by then, but she'll still throw things at you."

"She'll do that anyway, especially when I tell her." Alistair rose and adjusted his armor, checking to make sure it was secure. He then marched upstairs to meet his fate.

* * *

Elinora was not in her room. Alistair found her on the ramparts above the courtyard. She was dressed in a simple green wool dress, a shawl wrapped around her against the early winter cold. A sharp wind blew her chestnut tresses, wild and dancing. He took a moment to admire the sight.

"I know you're there, my love. Come keep me warm."

Alistair stepped behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm afraid armor is no good for warming up beautiful women."

"Well, not on the outside." She turned and kissed him, cool lips heating as they found his.

He broke from her sadly, trying to find the words. As usual, he didn't need to.

"You have to go back to Denerim, don't you?"

He bent his head, his forehead braced against hers. "How do you always know?"

"I'm very talented like that." She rested her cheek on his cold breastplate. "Petra doesn't want me to travel, does she?"

"Actually, I think she'll tie you down before she lets you set foot out of this castle."

Elinora chuckled a little and gripped the plates of his armor. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go either. I want to be here for every moment of it." Alistair's hand rested on her belly.

"Even the vomiting and screaming parts?" She flinched at the memory of a very messy evening two nights before. Pregnancy was not a pretty business.

"Even the vomiting and screaming parts. I love you." Alistair kissed her forehead and wrapped her in the safety of his arms, safety he couldn't provide forever.

"I love you, too," she whispered, even if it was never easy.

They stayed there, snuggled in the security of each other's presence, until she broke away with a sudden, "Oh!"

A bolt of fear shot through Alistair as he gripped her hands. "What? Is it the baby?"

"No, not as such." She got that look, the one that he knew meant she had an idea which he wasn't going to like.

"Oh no. Now what?"

Elinora chewed her lip and looked up at him. "I have an idea, but you're not going to like it."

He sighed. "I already figured out that much. Spill it."

"We need to keep the Chantry in the dark about this," her hand stroked her belly. "The false report was a good start, but we can do better." She looked away, chewing her lip. "We're splitting up."

"What?" Aistair recoiled as his heart cracked.

"Not for real, of course," she said as she squeezed his hands. "But you'll leave in a huff tomorrow and let it get around that we've encounter some issues in our relationship. I'm sulking in Highever, and you go back to Denerim. As long as they don't know I'm pregnant, they'll leave us alone."

Alistair wondered for a moment who 'us' was: himself and Elinora, or the Grey Wardens in general. It didn't matter in the end, he supposed.

But she was right about one thing; he did not like it.

* * *

"NO!"

Elinora stared in shock at the usually very calm boy, the one who was never any trouble. Cailin had stomped his foot and yelled when he was told he was to go back to Denerim with Alistair. Tears started to spill down his reddened cheeks.

Alistair knelt in front of Cailin. "Cailin, you have to…"

"No!" the boy yelled again. "I wanna stay here with Mother. Someone needs to protect her."

Elinora and Alistair looked at each other and then at Cailin. "But Cailin," Alistair started, "She's got a quarter of the Ferelden army half a mile away, and her Wardens are staying with her."

"And if something gets past them," Elinora added, "then there's Fergus, and Petra will freeze them in their tracks."

Cailin pouted at their arguments, tears still falling. Elinora's heart melted, though she kept her features flat. It was never a good idea to let a small child know his temper tantrums had an effect. "Fine. You can stay here."

Alistair looked at her like she'd grown a third arm. "Are you sure? Small boys aren't the most restful things to have around."

Elinora looked at her adopted son and smiled. "I have a feeling there will be plenty of people to keep him entertained. Pup, you understand that I am probably going to be pretty sick, right."

Cailin nodded solemnly. "I'll take care of you."

His sincerity made her smile. She reached out for his hand. "Then your first task is to escort me back to my room, then fetch the Wardens. I need to send a message to Amaranthine."

Cailin took her hand. Elinora gave Alistair a proud parting smile as the boy lead her down the corridor for her room, the same one she'd had since childhood.

Alistair shook his head. While 'pup' simply seemed to be the Cousland family term of endearment, Cailin certainly behaved like a newly imprinted Mabari.

But then again, didn't they all?

* * *

"Actually, Commander, we'd all like to go."

Elinora gaped open-mouthed at the collection of loyal men and women before her, ones who generally disapproved when she wasn't under their watchful eyes. Aldo, Alcina and Maphisa looked particularly guilty, while the others ranged from neutral to mildly abashed, except for Kinna, who looked like she was going to be sick.

"Why this sudden mutiny?" she asked Aldo with a raised eyebrow.

He sighed, wishing he didn't have to admit this weakness of them all. "It's the bond. Your illness is affecting all of us."

"But Jurgen never mentioned…"

"It doesn't matter!" He caught the harshness of his tone and backed down. "We're all feeling it to one degree or another. The ladies especially." Aldo looked to the ladies in question, who averted their gazes from their commander. "When the incident happened at Weisshaupt, the women locked themselves away in one section of the fortress. Weisshaupt is huge, much bigger than Highever. And, quite frankly, the bond is stronger the closer Wardens are to each other."

"You could stay in the village," Elinora suggested, but the look on Aldo's face explained everything. "Not that sort of close. You mean emotionally, not proximity."

"Both, actually. All of us are pretty worked up about your condition."

She raised an eyebrow. "Worked up?"

Aldo shrugged. "Worried, excited."

She sighed, resting her chin on her propped up hands. "Make sure that Petra knows about this and records it." She passed a sealed parchment to Aldo. "Get that to Burion. I'm temporarily handing command of Ferelden over to him."

Aldo blanched. "Are you sure?"

Elinora released a defeated sigh. "It's the smart thing to do. We need a functional command, and I'm not going to be it for a while. And someone needs to return here with Finn. I want my dog."

Aldo nodded with a sad smile. "Yes, Commander."

"And under no circumstances is Alistair to know that you are all leaving. He feels guilty enough without being in a panic that I'm unprotected."

"But you're not…"

"No, I'm not, but daddy's not going to feel that way. He leaves at dawn tomorrow, you leave the next day. Clear?"

"Yes, Commander," they responded more or less as one.

"Dismissed." Elinora watched as they left her brother's office. She didn't like it, but their departure would make it look even more like she had run home to lick her wounds. The rumor mill should churn the waters good and muddy.

And the quiet would be nice.

But all the justifications and good reasons in the world didn't stop the tears that fell once the door was closed.


	27. Chapter 26 Love the One You're With

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 26**

**Love the One You're With**

Weisshaupt – 9:35 Dragon, Winter 1, 22nd day

Except from a report from Commander Burion of Amaranthine to First Warden Rainer of Weisshaupt

_Well, she has gone and done it. Our darling El is with child by Ferelden's bastard king. I could only be happier if they were married and she was queen like she should be. Bloody Chantry. I assume you've gotten word of their edict, forbidding Grey Wardens to marry and wishing them away from sacred sites and artifacts? Ridiculous if you ask me, and I'm proud of our girl for defying them._

_We have encountered a new footnote to Wardens and babies. It seems her symptoms project across the bond. The Wardens have left her with her brother in Highever, as her healer has forbidden further travel. The king has returned to Denerim. There is a rumor that they've ended their amore. Aldo assures me that this is untrue and a ploy to keep the Chantry off her doorstep._

_El has also given me command of Ferelden – temporarily. We are to keep it quiet, as the locals will not like an Orlesian being in charge of a pig sty, much less a military force. As I have almost everyone here, I plan on doing heavy combat training through the winter, which is starting off some very serious weather._

_We've got a full dozen new Wardens to train up…_

Rainer threw aside Burion's report and rubbed his eyes. El was pregnant by her bastard king, who had left her for his duties. A small flame of anger kindled deep in his heart. He came up with a dozen more thing he could have left her for, but in his heart he knew that the rumor was, as Aldo said, untrue.

"Its late," a woman's voice said from the doorway. "You should come to bed."

Rainer looked up. That voice, one he'd heard in countless dreams, was Elinora's. he saw her at the door, dressed as she had been during her time in Weisshaupt; short-cropped hair, the ugly long vest thing and a well-worn boots.

He blinked and she was gone. Morrigan stood in her place with an arched eyebrow. He must not be getting enough sleep. He muttered some sort of agreement toward the witch, looking back to the papers on his desk.

She sauntered over and leaned against it. "Anything interesting?" Her hand drifted among the various papers scattered on the surface, her fingers plucking up the report from Ferelden.

Rainer caught her wrist. "That's Warden business."

Morrigan dropped the parchment but did not pull away from Rainer's grip. A sultry smile curved her lips. "Of course."

Rainer released her wrist and sat back in his chair, brooding. "Elinora Cousland is pregnant."

"Oh?" Morrigan responded casually. "'Tis not a condition I envy her."

"Really? Good to know you're not sleeping with me to produce another god."

Morrigan recoiled in mock offensive. "You wound me, great warrior, to think that I would have such ulterior motives for sharing your company!"

Rainer stood with a bitter snort of laughter. "Right, your motives are pure." Rounding the desk he pulled Morrigan roughly to his armored body. "Safety for you and your child. Very pure."

She smiled, trailing a finger along his earlobe. "Just so. But it doesn't mean we can't enjoy it." She leaned up and flicked her tongue to lightly touch his lips.

Rainer kissed her possessively, like he had many nights before. Tonight he cared less about why she came to his bed than any night before.

Tonight he needed to feel wanted.

* * *

A single candle glowed on the mantelpiece of Rainer's private quarters, the fire in the hearth burnt down to embers. Her body writhed above his, soft moans following her gyrations. Rainer's eyes drifted open and closed as the pleasure built, catching flickering glances of the woman who rode him.

Her.

Elinora.

His fingers drifted lightly over her back, his thumbs massaging the bumps of her hipbones. He wanted to please her. More. He wanted to possess her. With a growl, he rolled, putting her body beneath him, driving deep within her, release taking him, even as a low laugh emerged from below him.

Rainer opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd shut. Morrigan coyly smiled up at him, playing with his ear. "Magnificent."

He pulled himself from the bed quickly, striding across the room to a cup of wine waiting on a table. He drank it down.

Morrigan languidly stretched, breathing in deep. With a sigh, she slid out of bed and started hunting up her clothes.

Rainer leaned against the mantelpiece and watched her. "Why do you never stay?"

She cocked her head and looked to him. "Do you wish me to stay?"

He looked away. "No."

"As I thought. Ashling needs me in the morning." Morrigan slipped her flimsy excuse for a shirt over her head. "Speaking of which, what are you going to do about your pregnant commander?"

"Do?" he asked as he leaned over the washbasin.

"She alone in Highever with no one to protect her. Her Wardens have abandoned her for upset tummies, with the Chantry turning a hostile eye on her."

Rainer considered as he splashed water on his face. "I'll send orders for Burion…"

Morrigan made a dismissive noise and busied herself with her boots.

Rainer studied her with more than a little suspicion. "Exactly what is your concern with El?"

She stood and crossed her arms, looking truly offended. "I know you may find this hard to believe, but I consider Elinora Cousland a friend. We fought side by side in the Blight, she stood by me when others did not trust me." She shrugged off her offense and found a bracelet that had wandered off. "Besides, I do not trust the Chantry to leave this child alone. I fear they may try to take it, or worse."

Rainer kept a cynical gaze on her. "Motherly concern?"

Morrigan fussed with her armband. "I know a bit of what she is going through, and it is not pleasant, even without all the duties she has to bear."

"I see."

"Do you?" Morrigan looked up at the First Warden, her amber eyes locking on to his. "I do not think you see the significance of this. The first Warden child in a century and a half and you do not see it as anything more than an old lover moving on. Jealously…"

"What do you suggest?" Rainer interrupted.

Morrigan looked away, thinking. "Go to her, take fifty Wardens and keep her safe." Morrigan crossed the dim room to Rainer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Be the hero she needs."

Rainer turned away. "I'll think about it."

"Good." Morrigan opened the door. "Sleep well." She slipped into the corridor without another word and headed for her own quarters.

Rainer did not sleep well that night; he was too busy planning a trip to Ferelden.


	28. Chapter 27 The Waiting Game

_A/N: I have never had a baby. Everything I know about pregnancy comes from movies, friends and some time with a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" (which has a nice month-by-month overview). Forgive any major missteps and remember that this pregnancy is a little special._

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 27**

**The Waiting Game**

9:35 Dragon, Winter 1, 23rd day

Highever Castle – home sweet home

Fergus had the gall to comment to me today that he was glad that my Wardens and Alistair weren't around. I threw a book at him. He dodged it, like he always did, and said something about me eating up all the winter stores. Brat. I'm eating for two, and two Wardens at that. Petra just smiles and hands me more elfroot to chew on. It's helped the nausea and other fun bodily functions.

And there no words to describe how much I miss my Alistair. In everyway. Especially the naughty ways.

9:35 Dragon, Winter 2, 9th day

We have some new arrivals, getting here just in time for a blizzard to hit. It's a good thing we're glad to have them. Maddox and Twyla Dryden have come from Soldier's Peak. One of the merchant-Drydens caught rumor of my condition and the siblings decided to come and see if they could be of use, which they can be. Highever is still very understaffed. Their noble blood shows every once in a while, giving orders and arranging things, Twyla especially. She's putting a nursery in order.

The second arrival was a bit more shocking. Sybila from Haven has grown bored sitting in Andraste's crypt and decided that she wants to see more of the wide world. The thing is, she simply walked out of the mountains without so much as a by-your-leave to the Chantry. She followed rumor here, figuring that it was as good a place as any to hide. I'm not sure her logic is sound, but Petra can teach her more about magic and Cailin needs a proper tutor, which is as good a cover as any. And she's taken up some Chantry duties in the castle. The whole thing is strange, but it seems to be my lot in life to collect lost souls.

Speaking of rumors, I now have a better idea of what's being said out there. Most of the kingdom seems to think that Alistair and I have parted ways, and the stories of why are spectacular. This most prevalent is that he can't handle the Commander of the Grey; she's too forceful for him. Oh please. According to the Drydens, there are some whispers about pregnancy in the northern parts of Ferelden, but not a word of it further south. Makes sense; I only threw up on every other tree between Orzammar and Highever.

9:35 Dragon, Winter 2, 12th day

Cailin has learned to be really good at sneaking around. He's putting to practice all sorts of tricks he picked up from the Dalish, Alcina and Maphisa. Poor thing just doesn't want his head bitten off when I'm in a mood, which happens, a lot.

This morning I found a few sprigs of elfroot and a full pitcher of water on my bedside table. I'd only been half-asleep and had a headache like my skull was cracked open. Every noise, every bit of light hurt. And yet when I roused myself for some water, there it was. Petra told me it was Cailin. Its unnatural for a boy to be so silent, but so very useful. I keep forgetting he's only five years old.

9:35 Dragon, Winter 2, 19th day

I haven't thrown up in three days. I am far more thrilled that I should be.

I'm also starting to bloat. There is a distinct bump to my belly and my ankles have inflated so that I can't wear my old boots. Not that I could put on any of my armor, even if it fit. I can't seem to hold on to anything.

This displeases me.

9:35 Dragon, Winter 3, 7th day

Correspondence from Amaranthine and Denerim has dried up as the snow deepens. Burion was sending me regular updates on how training is going. The new Wardens are doing well, and he has two more recruits to send to the Outpost once the weather allows. I was finding it all very depressing. I'm no good to anyone right now. Well, anyone who currently isn't living in my belly.

Alistair was getting a message to me also every week. He writes on Tuesdays, but the arrival of these notes is erratic, as we are hiding our communications. I miss him terribly. I can read the guilt in his letters and I try not to make it worse in mine. Petra assures me that fathers are useless at this time and would be better sent away on some task until the baby shows up. They either get in the way or flutter around making mama nervous. Fergus rather sadly agreed with her. Poor Fergus. There are days I can see how much he misses Orianna and Oren. I'm not sure if the solution is a new wife, more work, or simply time. Or there is no solution and I just have to watch my brother hurt. If only I'd woken up sooner…

9:35 Dragon, Winter 3, 10th day

I dreamt of him last night, this little light inside me. He kept telling me not to be afraid. I kept asking him of what, but there was no answer, just a sense of wary smiling. I have this strange sense of… something. Words fail me.

Words have failed me a lot in the last week or so. I've called everyone every wrong name out there and couldn't remember the word 'pitcher' this morning. Petra says that typical. She's also started to show me some very silly exercises, good for keeping fit and helping with carrying and delivery. Not so long ago, exercise was a run around whatever castle I was in and some various fighting forms. I haven't picked up a weapon in weeks, not since I almost dropped the Rose's Thorn on Finn.

9:35 Dragon, Winter 3, 12th day

I had a nightmare last night, the kind I've never had.

It was a Fade spirit, an evil one. It questioned me, stripped away my armor until I was naked. Took the shape of people I know and love, and spoke cruel things in their guises. Alistair said he didn't love me and never wanted to see me again. Mother that I was a great disappointment. Rainer that he gave me command which I so carelessly tossed aside. Duncan for thinking I could ever been a Grey Warden. Petra that I was going to fail as a mother. And then the baby ripped his way out of me, just like Jurgen described. He talked, said I was unworthy. That was it; I was giving up, dying. Then a bright light. I caught a glimpse of a man; armored, armed with sword and dagger, bearded and aged. He ran passed my shredded form, skewering the baby on his sword and running… off. Then Wynne came. She put me back together, held me as I cried. I woke up sobbing.

I'm scared. I've never wanted Alistair here so badly.

9:35 Dragon, Winter 3, 17th day

He kicked me! Or punched me or rolled over or something. It doesn't matter, he moved! And I woke up the whole castle to tell everyone. Petra did a quick prodding, declared everything satisfactory and went back to bed. There were a lot of patient smiles.

I wish Alistair was here to feel him.

9:36 Dragon, Spring 1, 1st day

And with the dawn, winter is over and a new year begins. Will someone please inform winter? It's still snowing.

Petra pricked my finger and spread the blood on a crystal and a halved apple. She and Sybila spent several hours pondering the crystal. Petra said the crystal bit was about the taint and the baby and all the pain I've been in for the last few days. She keeps saying 'normal but badly so'. That is not reassuring. Looks like I'm not going to get off easy on any of this.

As for the apple, apparently there's an old wives tale about reading the blood of an expectant mother on the first day of spring. Twyla proclaimed that my baby would be a leader of men and propagate a great line of warriors. If only she knew.


	29. Chapter 28 When the Wardens Come Marchin

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 28**

**When the Wardens Come Marching In**

Highever – Spring 2, 3rd day

Elinora lay in bed, enjoying a sweet spring breeze that wafted into her room. The thaw had begun in earnest, as if apologizing for the bad winter. Cailin lay next to her, his head on her belly, listening as she read to both her boys. Finn had found a nice puddle of sunlight, his ears twitching every once in a while. The mid-afternoon nap was becoming on of her favorite routines, one she would miss when the time came for her to get back to work. For right now though, she would enjoy it.

And it was one of the small bits of pleasure she found. This pregnancy business was difficult, though Petra assured her that hers was especially arduous. Everything ached, all the time. Her back, her legs and particularly her head. No amount of exercise or massage seemed to have any effect. Elinora was ready for this to be over.

Finn disrupted their peace with a grunt, a growl and a low bark out the open window. Elinora sat up as Cailin hopped out of bed in small boy fashion and ran to the window.

"Soldiers, mother!" He craned his neck for a better view of the road.

Elinora moved slowly to window and looked out. A motley group of about thirty came up the causeway at a slow, non-aggressive march. She scanned the group until she found their insignia. Her heart leapt when she found a blue griffon adoring a breastplate. She turned and moved as quickly as she could for the Great Hall.

Fergus was waiting already, armored and ready to receive guests. His people seemed nervous, but were following the calm demeanor of their teyrn. "Apparently, my dear sister, your boys have come to check on you."

Elinora gave him a wry smile and adjusted her dress, hoping she didn't look too rumpled. "And brought all of Amaranthine with them."

The heavy double doors opened, as the Wardens marched in and arranged themselves in a flanking position around the Hall. Once in, they bowed as one.

Elinora searched for familiar faces among the men not wearing closed helmets, and found ones she only vaguely recognized from her time in Weisshaupt. At least half the group were heavy warriors, most of which had some sort of visor protecting their faces.

A helmeted warrior stepped forward, his breastplate bearing the double griffon insignia of a commander. He pulled off the closed helmet and shook the tendrils of blonde hair that had gotten loose from their warrior's tail.

"Rainer!"

"Hello, El," he responded casually, like he had run into her at market, not stormed her castle.

Her face screwed up with confusion. "What in the Maker's name are you doing here? And with a combat force?"

Rainer stood up straight, as if he was addressing his superior instead of subordinate. "We are here to protect you and your child."

Fergus cleared his throat and stepped forward, putting a hand on Elinora's shoulder. "I am Teryn Fergus Cousland, Elinora's elder brother, and I assure you, she is quite safe."

Rainer smiled in a politic sort of way and gave Fergus a smaller bow. "I'm sure she is, but we are here to make certain of it. The Grey Wardens protect their own."

Fergus scanned the massed warriors, looked to his sister, and then shrugged. "A little extra protection can't hurt, I suppose."

"Wait," Elinora started to protest. "What about… oh never mind." She heaved a sigh and flinched a little, her hand going to her rounding belly. "I haven't the stamina to argue. And he's decided to do summersaults."

Rainer stepped one cautious step forward, his hand outstretched. "May I?"

She smiled with a slight headshake. "Why not? Everyone else does."

The First Warden slid his gauntlet off as he closed the distance between them. He knelt before her and placed a tenuous hand on her belly. At the baby's kick, Rainer murmured, "I can sense him."

"What do you sense?"

Rainer looked up at Elinora, overwhelmed with what was tingling across the Warden bond. "Joy."

A tired smile crept onto her face. "I never pegged you for the sentimental type."

Rainer rose abruptly, donning the resolution of command that a First Warden must wear. He looked to the Cousland siblings and said, "It's been a long journey and I would like to get the Wardens settled. We can camp outside the castle or…."

Elinora's mind drifted away from the logistics of boarding thirty warriors. Her focused turned to what Rainer had just experienced. He could sense the baby? How come she couldn't sense the baby? Or maybe she could and just wasn't reading him right. Maybe… too many maybes. She and Petra would have to work it out.

But for now, it was time to get off her feet.

* * *

It was late when the Warden bond pulled Rainer to the upper ramparts. She was worried, he could sense it. Aldo wasn't the only one good at picking things out over the bond.

Elinora leaned against a crenellation, staring at the moon. Sweet Andraste, she was beautiful, even round with child and wrapped in a beaten old shawl. Her hair wafted gently in the cold breeze, winter's last grip on the world.

And then she staggered. Rainer ran to catch her even as she caught herself on the stone battlements.

He meant to say something pithy, or at least comforting, but what came out was, "How could he leave you alone?"

Elinora's blue-green eyes squeezed shut, but she didn't pull away from him. "We need to keep this secret. The ruse…"

"The ruse has you up here in the middle of the night, worrying." He kept a steady arm around her shoulders.

Her eyes stayed shut and head down. "Had to be done."

Rainer frowned at her. "What about your happiness?"

Elinora bit her lip a moment before answering. "I gave up my own happiness the night Duncan pulled me from this castle. Sacrifice, remember?"

"You've already done your part…"

"My part is not over until the Deep Roads. Neither is yours."

"Since when did you become a prophet?"

She looked at him then. "There's no prophecy in it, just what a Warden does."

Rainer placed a gentle hand on her round belly. He felt the baby move under it. "No Warden has done this in a century and a half. None have been so brave."

She snorted an unhappy laugh and turned her gaze back to the moon. "None have been so foolish. What was I thinking? Trying to be more than one thing, its ridiculous! Warrior and Mother are not things a person can be at the same time."

"I respectfully disagree." Rainer squeezed her shoulder. "If anyone can do it, you can. I just wish you weren't doing it alone." He hand left her belly to find her chin. He lightly pulled her face to look at him. "If… if it was me, I never would have left your side."

"Rainer…"

"I'm sorry El, but I expected better of Alistair. He should be standing by you, Chantry bedamned!"

"It was my idea."

The hand at her shoulder slid to the small of her back. "And I would have said no and stayed put."

Elinora stepped away from his arms. "But its not you, and you don't have Alistair's duties to consider. Nor mine." She suddenly looked very tired. "I'm going to attempt to get some sleep. Good night." And without another word, she left the rampart.

Rainer watched her go, and then turned to face the moon. "Damnit."


	30. Chapter 29 Spy in the Temple

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. I'm trying to get everything to line up correctly before committing it to publication, and then I got busy on some Real Life bother._

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 29**

**The Spy in the Temple**

Denerim - 9:36 Dragon, Spring 2, 18th day

Leliana knelt in supplication off to the side of Andraste's altar and wondered, not for the first time, if this spot had been designed to catch the conversations coming out of the Grand Cleric's study. The Templar she had tempted into some quiet time alone had told her about it, bragging about being on her eminence's guard detail and stumbling upon this little corner. As Grand Cleric Adia's temper had become legendary, he was grateful to have a way to get an insight into her mood.

They'd giggled and gossiped through the night, one Leliana considered well spent.

In fact, it might have been the best spent time so far. Leliana had been here, serving at the Great Chantry, watching the Grand Cleric, ever since the harpy had demanded that Alistair produce Elinora and prove that she wasn't pregnant. He'd refused, of course, claiming he had no right to do so. He was neither husband nor lover nor even king to a Grey Warden commander. Ever since then the Chantry had been coming to him with all sorts of demands and requests, most of which had nothing to do with directly with Elinora. He was smart enough not to agree to any of it, protesting that he needed to think about whatever they were putting before him. The old rumor that King Alistair was not the brightest of boys was serving him well.

Leliana had managed to meet with him a few times over the last several months. She was his eyes and ears with the Chantry, as Zevran was out and about in the lower reaches of the city. She looked forward to those clandestine afternoons in the old Warden storehouse. Even as they reported news that could mean everything and nothing, they were able to laugh like old friends. Leliana could see some of the tension slide off of Alistair's shoulders. Which was good; the winter had been miserable for him.

But on this fine morning, it was time for piety. And patience, which was duly rewarded.

"How is it," screeched Adia's unmistakable voice, "that I have one report informing me that she failed in her task in the fall, another that says she and the king have parted company, and yet a third that says she is pregnant by him! Who dares lie to the Maker!"

"Your Eminence…" a pleading male voice tried to intervene. Leliana knew by now that he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Silence, fool! And now I have word that fifty Grey Wardens have landed in Amaranthine, and half have left there and are heading west, toward Highever."

"That doesn't prove..."

"Its enough for me. You are ordered to take fifty Templars to Highever and find the truth of it. If the Warden-girl is with child, you seize her and bring her here!"

"It will be difficult to get so many…"

"I don't care! Pull from the Tower and Haven if you have to. I expect her here before her bastard can destroy the house of the Maker. Am I clear?"

"As a still pond, your…" Leliana shifted out of the sweet spot, sliding smoothly to kneel in front of Andraste. She'd heard all she needed and she didn't want to be caught there if it was well known. She started reciting the Chant of Light, somewhere in the middle of a passage on purity. She stayed there, singing softly, until Aida and her templar marched out of the study.

Leliana finished the passage and rose, head bowed, and headed for the scriptorium. With only a little manipulation, she had managed to get herself assigned there, often fetching and carrying materials all over Denerim. Perfect.

Two scraps of parchment were easily found. She kept her messages brief, and then tucked them into her sleeve. From there, Leliana gathered an armload of books to take to the Chantry in the Market District.

"Going somewhere, Sister Ana?"

Leliana turned to the elderly voice behind her. The ancient sister in charge of the scriptorium guarded her charges jealously and did not like it when they went out the door. Leliana put a pleasant smile on her face. "Sister Justine has requested these for some research, and on such a lovely day I do hate to be cooped up."

With a nod, the librarian sent her on her way. Leliana smiled. What she had told the librarian had the advantage of being true.

The Market District was bustling. The spring produce was in from the countryside and everyone was hungry for something fresh. A small herd of boys were playing in the square. With difficulty, Leliana quickly bypassed the stalls of greens and flowers and made for the Chantry to finish her delivery.

"You're early." Justine greeted Leliana with a smile. They had met very briefly during the Blight, but she had never recognized the bard.

Leliana rolled her eyes. "The old harpy was in rare form this morning. I though it best to get out and about as soon as I could."

Justine returned Leliana's eye roll. "I hear she's been like that a lot lately. Wait," she said as she looked over the stack of books. "Where's Novum's Treatise on the Containment of Magic?"

Leliana put a shocked expression on her face and even managed a slight blush. "Oh dear. I must have forgotten it. I'll be back with it shortly." Justine giggled as Leliana turned and left the Chantry. As much as the curator loved her books and antiquities, she could understand not wanting to within a mile Grand Cleric Aida.

At the district gate a boy waited for Leliana. Kevan was very skilled at getting in and out of places he shouldn't be, whether by stealth or charm. One day he would be a great thief, but today he was an excellent messenger. Leliana handed him the both intricately folded parchments and five coppers. "Get one to Master Duncan and one to Zed."

The boy nodded and ran off toward the palace. Leliana headed back to the Great Chantry to fetch the forgotten treatise.

At the palace, Kevan found Declan, a servant he had been instructed to give Sister Ana's messages too. Declan met him, threw some half-hearted and insincere insults on him, and then handed the boy two coppers and sent him on his way.

Message in hand, Declan entered the study once he was bidden. With a casual glance down the corridor, he closed the study door, the handed King Alistair the message with a bow.

Alistair unfolded the parchment with a bit of difficulty. He almost always ripped it a bit.

_The Maker's dogs are heading for our mutual friend. We need two pints of milk._

Alistair smiled as he handed the note to Declan. They'd come up with so many code words. Thank the Maker this was a short message. His smile vanished as the meaning sunk in. Elinora. The Chantry was sending Templars to her. And his baby.

And he would have to wait until two o'clock to find out more.

"I will be spending the night at Tranquility House. Have a horse ready after lunch."

Declan bowed. "As you wish, your majesty." He tossed the message into the small fire and watched it burn.

* * *

Zevran lounged in the common room of the Pearl, watching with amusement the late-morning walks of shame as over-sleeping clients headed back to their normal lives. A familiar boy running into the brothel grabbed he attention.

Kevan gave Zevran a smile and eyed the shiny weapons the elf wore on his back. Zevran took the parchment then shooed him away with a few coppers. His eyes widened as he worked out the message. He left his seat quickly, crumpling and tossing the paper trail into the fire as he left The Pearl.

He was going to need some supplies.

* * *

Leliana returned to the market Chantry with the 'forgotten' book in the early afternoon. With her duties done, she headed for the back of the market. If anyone asked, she was going to the Gnawed Noble for a bite, but no one did. The back alley was empty as she slipped into the warehouse, then into the Warden storehouse hidden behind a bookcase.

And there she waited, chewing over what she had learned in the past few hours between her visits to the Market.

"What is it with all the beautiful heroines of the Blight making themselves hideous later? First our fearless leader, and now you?"

Leliana turned to the sardonic Antivan voice behind her and stuck out her tongue. Zevran shook his head with a grin. Teasing Leliana about her frumpy new look was a hobby of his. "Seriously woman, the hair pulled back like that makes you all forehead, and how much weight have you put on?"

"Zevran, you know better than to ask a woman about her weight." A new male broke in. Alistair gave Zevran a shove as he entered the room. "Leliana, you hardly look like yourself, which is the point, if I remember right."

"I'm glad some of us remember," the bard said with a smart glance to assassin. "You may be able to get away with lounging around in the questionable parts of the city, but I need to keep a proverbial low profile. Can't have the Grand Cleric recognizing me."

Zevran looked confused. "I thought she was new? From the Cathedral in Orlais?"

"She is," Leliana explained, "but that doesn't help with everyone else."

"As much fun as catching up is, that's not why we're here." Alistair looked to Leliana, his expression becoming grave. "What news do you have?"

Leliana began her report. "Aida is sending fifty Templars to take Elinora into custody, should they find her pregnant. Given the atmosphere in the Chantry these days, I would expect them to take her in no matter what."

Zevran broke in. "Are there even fifty Templars in the city?"

"No, more like twenty, which is why they're mustering at the Tower of Magi."

Alistair was fighting down his fear, and his urge to grab the first horse he could find and ride for Highever. "When?"

"Every Templars rides out of the city tomorrow, heading for the Tower," Leliana recited.

Alistair looked to Zevran. The elf nodded. "I can get to Highever in three days, it will take them at least five to get to the Tower. I will stay with her until you can come." Zevran's eyes locked with Alistair's, daring him to argue. "Do not wait." And with that, he was gone.

"I'll send an official courier to the Tower tonight." Alistair watched until the former Crow was gone. "Leliana, I need you to put a new rumor in the field. I've had the winter to moan over her…"

"Which you have…"

"… and I want her back. I ride to my love as soon as possible." Alistair smiled. "Maybe put something in it about blooming roses."

Leliana raised a sly eyebrow. "And the perverted word of Andraste. How disguised?"

"Quite." Alistair looked remorsefully to the ground. "We may have to…" he looked back to Leliana, determination pushing away the sadness that had been there a moment ago. "If we do this thing, you're certain that the Chantry will fall in line?"

She considered, then said, with a slight shake of her head, "No, not certain. But the odds are good."

He nodded, more to himself than anyone else. "Zevran says much the same thing, as does Eamon if I'm reading him right, and Declan. The people are ready, or near enough. And I'm positive Fergus Cousland will not be a problem."

Leliana pulled her hair out of its tail. Even just taking it down, the red framing her face, made all the difference in her appearance. She looked more like the old Leliana, the one who followed them through the Blight. She started rifling through a wardrobe with a fair stash of clothing. She was getting good and turning from the pious sister to the flashy minstrel in a heartbeat.

As she muttered about things still fitting and outcries over current style, Alistair thought about slipping out, making his own preparations to get to Highever. Instead he collapsed onto a crate. A ball of ice scorched his stomach, and then pushed its viscous way into his throat. It tore from him in a sob.

Leliana stopped searching and turned to her old friend as his face fell into his hands. She sat down and wrapped sisterly arms around him. "I never should have left her," he said over and over. He cried onto her shoulder until his tears ran out.

"You did what you thought would keep her safe. And for months it has. It was a good plan."

"Until it all fell apart."

"Aida was bound to suspect something with the arrival of fifty Grey Wardens on…"

Alistair looked up. "Wardens?"

Leliana blinked. She figured he knew. "Yes, a company of Wardens headed for Highever. That's what's got her all in a tizzy."

Alistair's eyes narrowed. "Rainer." He stood and headed for the door. "Leliana, get singing. I'm going to head for Highever as soon as possible. Tomorrow if I can."

"Your majesty…"

Alistair groaned. "You only call me that when you're about to remind me about my duty. I have a duty to my wife and child, even… never mind." He opened the door. "Sometimes there are more important things than being king." And with that, he left.

Leliana smiled. She had a start to her new ballad.


	31. Chapter 30 Leaving on a Horse Cart

**Duty's Choice: Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 30**

**Leaving on a Horse Cart**

Highever – Spring 2, 21st day

"Sten, you can stop following me around now," Elinora said as she stepped into the solar. This morning's walk around the gardens had been good, but exhausting.

The Qunari crossed his arms and stared down at her. "It is what a bodyguard does. I have my orders."

Elinora chuckled. "I bet you never thought your orders would include 'follow the pregnant girl around, make sure she doesn't fall over herself.' Come give me a hand."

Sten grunted in something that could have been agreement, disagreement or laughter. He moved to her side as she walked into the room. Helping delicate women into comfy chairs and taking off their muddy boots was, indeed, not in his usual job description. He studied her as she tipped her head back and groaned a bit. "Commander," he started, "I do not understand how you could allow yourself to get into such a weakened condition."

One eye opened as a wry grin spread across her face. "Because sometimes you don't fight the war with weapons."

He grunted again as Rainer, Fergus and Petra entered the solar and an alert clip. Sten stepped out of the room and took up a post outside the door.

"I have news," the First began, but was interrupted by raised voices in the corridor.

"She is not to be disturbed." Sten's low rumble was threatening.

"Do you think I would dare if it was not of the utmost importance?"

Elinora knew that voice. "Zevran, get in here!"

The elf entered and with his usual lithe grace and crossed the room to kneel at Elinora's side, the one not occupied by Rainer. Zevran kissed her hand and proclaimed, "The glow of motherhood suits you, my lady."

Rainer smiled with agreement as Fergus rolled his eyes and Elinora groaned. "Glow of motherhood, Andraste's ass. I hope you brought a magic do-dad to speed this all up."

Zevran's smile faltered. "Would it were so, but no. The Grand Cleric has order fifty Templars to Highever. They are to take you into custody."

Elinora cried out in disbelief. "They can't do that! They have no right!"

Petra shook her head. "It's muddy territory, legally speaking."

Elinora shot her a dark look. "How soon?"

"I would guess eight days, six if they kill their horses. They are gathering at the Tower of Magi. Denerim has emptied of her Templars; no more than twenty says Leliana. The rest they expect to get from the Tower."

"They'll never get that many," Petra said with a headshake, "not unless they empty the Tower of Templars as well, which I don't think they will."

Fergus's eyes narrowed. "Even if they do, they'll have to get passed the Ferelden army first. And the Highever guards."

Elinora's expression matched her brother's "And the Wardens. And me."

Zevran rose. "And I am sure a great many others before that, myself included."

Fergus grinned down at his little sister. "We could lock you in the tower."

Elinora gave him an exasperated look. "Who do think you are? Father?"

Rainer paced away from them, thinking. At the great windows he paused, gripping the casement as a small wave of dizziness hit, as it had often this last few months. He thought he saw a flash from outside, but there was nothing. He dismissed it. "We need to get you out of here."

"What?" Elinora grunted as the baby moved.

He turned to face her. "If we make a stand here, it will cause massive political problems for Alistair. The Chantry could call an Exalted March on Ferelden and the Orlesian army would back it up." Fergus nodded his agreement with Rainer's assessment. "Would you countenance war in Ferelden for your child."

Elinora set her jaw. "No, but Alistair would."

"Where would you take her?" Fergus asked, his voice strained.

"Amaranthine," Rainer announced decisively. "Its still Ferelden territory, but under Warden control. It's defensible and will give Alistair political cover."

"And its in the opposite direction as the Templars," Elinora muttered. Her hand rested on her belly, feeling the subtitle movements of the baby within.

"You can't be serious?" Petra's eyes grew with horror. "No, she can't travel, not this far along."

"I can speak for myself," Elinora snapped. "Petra has to come with us. She'll know what to do if things go badly." She looked up to Fergus. "Try to keep Cailin here."

Her brother nodded. "That shouldn't be hard."

She barked a dark laugh. "Five silvers says he stows away."

Rainer looked at the Cousland siblings with great confusion. "How can you two joke at a time like this?"

Fergus said "Practice" as Elinora said "Easily."

Zevran looked to the First Warden. "I do not understand it either."

Elinora's commanding gaze met the assassin's. "Zev, I need you to head back to Denerim, tell Alistair the plan."

Zevran again flourished a bow to her. "For you, I shall be a lowly messenger boy."

Petra rolled her eyes. "If you are quite done, we have preparations to make, most importantly how were are going to get an eight-month pregnant woman to Amaranthine."

By dawn the next morning, they were outfitted and provisioned to Elinora, Rainer and Petra's satisfaction. A feather mattress had been put into the back of a covered wagon, along with all the supplies Petra insisted they needed. They'd even found a set of mounting steps to help get Elinora in and out of her traveling bed.

And thus it was that Elinora Cousland fled from Highever Castle a second time.

* * *

The Circle Tower

First Enchanter Irving took the message from the royal courier with a nod. The young man bowed and departed. The Templar who had escorted him up followed with a dark glare at them both. The Templars had been irritable of late and Gregoir would be up here demanding answers soon enough.

Then again, the Templars had received their own messenger that morning. And Gregoir had not seen fit to share that information.

Making sure he was alone, Irving opened up his message

_The Maker's dogs are called on High. It maybe time soon. Do what you can. –D_

D indeed, Irving chuckled to himself. King Alistair had chosen an interesting nom de guerre, Duncan. A little predictable perhaps, but interesting. He like Ferelden's young king.

And Irving knew exactly how he was going to aid him.


	32. Chapter 31 Hunters

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 31**

**Hunters**

On the road between Highever and Denerim – Spring 2, 23rd day

Zevran slowed his pounding jog to an easy walk. He could hear horses, galloping horses, perhaps twenty of them. Had the Templars decided to head directly to Highever from Denerim? If so, they had certainly taken their time. He found cover easily enough in a tree next to the road, an easy shot if needed. Mostly he hoped he would only have to stay very still.

Turned out, he was wrong on both counts.

As the recognizable column of horse came into view, he swung down from his hiding spot. He put himself in the middle of the road, crossed his arms and waited.

Alistair and his Captain of Horse saw the elf at the same time. Alistair issued the command to halt, which the captain echoed. They drew rein three paces away from Zevran, who did not flinch.

"Well?" demanded Alistair as he dismounted.

Zevran, while disappointed in the lack of jibe at their arrival, got right to the point. "She knows. Her Wardens are taking her to Amaranthine."

Alistair looked doubtful. "Why?" he asked slowly.

"The First Warden said he wanted to avoid political problems between Ferelden and the Chantry. He believes that making this confrontation between Wardens and Templars only will do that. I do not believe that is the whole of it."

Alistair wore a troubled expression. "I'm certain its not. Rainer's in love with Elinora."

Zevran's eyebrows raised. "That would explain much."

Alistair went back to his horse. "She shouldn't travel." He swung up into the saddle. "We'll meet them, turn them back for Highever. Make our stand there."

The elf hesitated a moment, then said what many of them were thinking. "Your majesty, he is not wrong."

Alistair's face hardened. "It doesn't matter. Let history judge me as it will, I will fight for the woman I love. Finally."

The Tower of Magi

From his window, Irving watched as yet another boatload of Templars disembarked on the quay. That brought their total to nineteen new Templars milling about with the usual ones. Which if you asked him, was forty-seven too many.

"First Enchanter?"

Irving turned to find an apprentice twitching at his study door. "Yes?"

The boy, no more than fourteen, bobbed something like a bow. "Owain has finished doing as you asked. The Tower is officially out of lyrium." He gulped then spit out, "Isn't that bad?"

Irving smiled. "Oh, I'm sure some will be found soon enough, but not for at least a week. Oh well." He smiled and turned back to the window.

Denerim

When Guard Captain Kylon had been approached by a man named Declan, he had been hoping that the opportunity the royal servant hinted at was cushy job at the palace. As soon as the door closed behind him in the king's royal study, Kylon knew that it would be anything but cushy. King Alistair had a reputation for boyish buoyancy, but that man in front of him was deathly serious.

"If you can't do what I'm about to ask you to do, I understand and you'll be free to go. If you breathe a word of it though, it could mean all our heads. Can I trust your discretion?"

Kylon had gulped, but said, "Yes, your majesty."

The king nodded grimly. "Good." Then proceeded to ask for the impossible.

Yet here Kylon was, in front of the doors of the Great Chantry with a dozen royal guardsmen and an assortments of knights, soldiers and even a couple of banns. They were a fair representation of political and military power in Ferelden, all told. No matter how this turned out, a message was very clearly being sent.

At Kylon's nod, two knights pushed open the great doors. Kylon strode down the aisle, stepping on the last words of the morning services. All eyes fell on the motley army that entered the Chantry.

"What is the meaning of this?" shrieked the Grand Cleric.

Kylon drew himself upright and pulled a signed and sealed parchment from his pouch. "Grand Cleric Aida, you are under arrest for sedition against the crown."

He really didn't think she could get more indignant that she already was, but her pinched face managed to thin and turn bright red. "How dare you! Templars!" She looked furiously about her, but found none. Her eyes returned to Kylon and narrowed. "Oh very clever."

Whispers raged over the crowd, but no one moved. They wanted to see how this turned out.

Kylon cleared his throat and the crowd stilled, wanting to hear every word. "Now, you can come quietly or…"

"I will go no where. I demand the right of sanctuary! You can't take me."

An elderly priest stepped forward and gave Aida a look both sympathetic and hard, like a pillow on a rock. "Um, actually, the right of sanctuary can be annulled if the collective members of the Chantry think it too dangerous to harbor the penitent."

"How dare you?" Aida spat.

"And you," the priest continued, "are anything but penitent."

Aida looked about her wildly, the panic finally setting in. Ferelden brothers and sisters surrounded her. A small army of soldiers held her Chantry, and her flock had a slightly satisfied look on its collective face.

She stepped forward, her hard eyes boring into Kylon. "You will pay. In this life or in the beyond, you will pay."

Kylon kept his expression neutral. "It's the risk we all take, your eminence. Let's go."

With his prisoner surrounded by guards, they left the Chantry and headed for Fort Drakon.

That went well.


	33. Chapter 32 Something Happening Here

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 32**

**Something Happening Here**

On the Road – Spring 2, 24th day

Something was wrong. Elinora couldn't place her finger on it, but after two days of travel, something was very, very wrong.

There were many reasons that women didn't travel this heavy with child. Not only was it unbearably uncomfortable, but she had to stop them to pee every twenty minutes. That was much easier said than done, what with the joys of getting in and out of the cart. It had slowed them down quite a bit. As it was, they were going much slower than Rainer wanted to.

But that wasn't the problem. If they were on the Coastlands Road, like they supposed to be, she should be smelling the tang of sea air. The terrain wasn't right. The forest was thinning and the land rolling downward, instead of getting rockier.

For the third time that day, Elinora peaked under the canvas of their wagon, trying to get her bearings.

And she finally did, only too well.

She closed her eyes, and then looked again, just to be sure.

Outside, a wizened pine tree squatted next to a boulder almost as tall as she was.

"Petra," she whispered, fighting down the panic, "Petra wake up." The mage stirred from the corner of the cart in which she and Caitlin were dozing, his little head pillowed on her bosom.

Elinora had been right; the boy had cleverly hidden himself in the corner of the cart, under the driver's bench, squeezed between the feather bed and wall, under the bench. And for some reason, he wanted to stay hidden. Right now Elinora was grateful for it, and Fergus owed her five silvers.

Petra blinked sleepy eyes at her. "What?"

"We're going the wrong way."

The mage gaped in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

Elinora nodded and the memories came flooding back.

_The sun was starting to show itself off to the east when she tripped and staggered. Duncan turned in time to see her fall hard onto her hands and knees. They'd been running for hours, first through the forest, lit by the fires of Highever, then onto the main road that wound south toward Ostagar. At some point they'd come to the crossroads where this southern route met the great Northern Road, but kept running south, not even pausing. For Elinora Cousland, the journey had been a blind bolt from the only home she'd ever known._

_The shock of the fall broke the spell of numbness. She saw first her hands; clenched so tight they had drawn blood as the nails dug into her palms. But there was so much blood. Some of it was hers, but much of it wasn't. Some of it was her father's, but most of it came from the men she had killed that night._

_She had killed._

_The gorge rose quickly up her throat. She had just enough time to throw herself out of the road and into a heavily knotted pine tree. She emptied her stomach and wept._

_Duncan approached her slowly and silently. When it seemed the worst had past, he offered her a waterskin. She took it, standing upright too fast. She staggered against a massive boulder, putting her back to it as she rinsed the foulness from her mouth then took a proper drink. The water was cool and sweet, soothing her ragged throat and easing her still churning stomach. She passed the skin back and pushed herself off of the boulder._

_Elinora stayed upright this time, refusing to show weakness to Duncan again. One foot in front of the other, all the way to Ostagar._

They were heading south, into the Bannorn. Toward the Tower.

Elinora looked to Petra and found her staring at the canvas that covered them, watching the shadows of the lessening trees. "I'm sure there's a good reason for it."

Elinora thought about it and couldn't come up with one. "Cailin, hide." He followed her directions as she pounded on the driver's bench.

"Again?" came a gruff voice from outside. The cart came to a stop.

Barth and Sten flipped up the back flap as she scooted out. They lifted her down. She stood stretching for a moment as Rainer marched over. "What's wrong?"

She smiled her most charming smile at him. "The little one seems to think my bladder is a punching bag. I'll be right back." She toddled off into the bushes.

Definitely the wrong way.

She returned to the group a short time later, walking up to Rainer, trying to keep her expression neutral. "Pregnancy has turned me completely fluff-brained. I'm all mixed up here. Which way are we going? It feels like south to me, but Amaranthine is east."

Rainer looked at her and blinked. "We're going east." He looked up and around him, his expression becoming confused. "I think. Yes, east." He looked back to her. "To Amaranthine."

She saw it. For a split second Rainer's eyes had flashed gold

The bottom dropped out of her stomach, and was kicked back up by the baby. "I see," she said flatly, and returned to the cart. As Sten took her arm to help her back in, she asked him, "Which direction are we going?"

He gave her that look he always had when she asked what he considered a stupid question. "East, to Amaranthine."

That look was all she needed; there was a gold glaze to Sten's eyes. He herded her back into the cart.

"Well?" Petra asked.

Elinora chewed her lip. "I need to think." Easier said than done. She hadn't been kidding about being fluff-brained.

Cailin peaked out once they started moving. His quiet, clear blue eyes looked into hers.

She had to do something.

By the time they stopped for the night, Elinora had a plan. Just not a good one.

Somewhere in the middle of third watch, Elinora peaked out of the back of the cart, both her transportation and sleeping quarters, to find the Warden on watch dozing. Third watch always fell asleep.

Carefully avoiding the sleeping Petra, she pulled aside the flap that covered the driver's bench. She looked to Cailin. He smiled bravely and nodded. She pulled him close and kissed his forehead, and boosted him on to the driver's bench. Silently, he slipped from the bench, to the floor and then to the ground. With one backward glance, he headed north at a dead run.

Elinora fought the tears down. He would make it. He should reach Highever in a day. He just had to stay to the road, keep going north, tell Fergus what had happened. But as his small form vanished into the darkness, she wanted to call him back and keep him safe.

She crawled back into her bed, the tears finally winning. What kind of mother sent her child into the wilderness with only a simple direction and a prayer? Cailin didn't even have a water skin or anything to eat. He could get kidnapped or lost.

Small reassurances slipped through her mind, but they found no purchase. He was a clever boy and fast. Highever wasn't that far away and he had a road to follow. Nothing eased her worry; it just shifted as the baby within her moved.

She was a terrible mother.

No mother in her right mind would put her unborn child at risk this way. She shouldn't have done this.

But it was done.

If experience had taught her anything, it was to deal with the situation at hand. No living in a regretted past. No whining about things that couldn't be changed. She had to work with what she had, which at this moment was a small boy and a delicate condition.

Three days. Maybe two if Cailin was quicker than she thought and Fergus could get his troops moving. She could wait that long for rescue, maybe find out what in the Maker's name was going on.

It wasn't much, but it was something.


	34. Chapter 33 Hero

_A/N: Advance apology for the days between chapters. I'm paying a visit to my mother, which means I have a packed social calendar and will probably not have much time to write. Or tons, depending on things… But I will get chapters up as they finish!_

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 33**

**Hero**

The Shores of Lake Calenhad – Spring 2, 25th day

Knight-Commander Hegarty surveyed his Templars as they formed up on the shores of Lake Calenhad. It had taken the better part of the morning, but all forty-five men were now ready to march out. It wasn't quite what the Grand Cleric had ordered, but it was close enough not to delay any further.

Besides, how hard was it to arrest one pregnant Grey Warden?

* * *

Highever

Alistair's face was pale and taut as he rode through the gates of Highever. They should have run into the Warden's party en route. They had not, and seen no evidence of a large force traveling that way.

His last hope was that they were still at Highever, deciding not to risk the journey. Once in the gate, he knew that hope was lost as well. He could sense no Grey Wardens in Highever.

A bewildered Fergus met them at the gate. "I expected you to head straight for Amaranthine. They should be halfway there by now."

Alistair's heart pounded under his armor, but he kept his voice calm. "They were taking the Coastlands Road, correct?"

"Yes," Fergus replied suspiciously.

Alistair's jaw locked as he ground his teeth. Fury built inside him. He dismounted and stalked away.

At Fergus's confused look, Zevran hopped off his mount and explained, "We did not met them on the road. Search parties…"

Fergus was already barking orders. "Scouting parties! Three of them, now!"

Zevran left Fergus to handle the organization of the official search parties. He knew where he was going, but there was something to be checked on first.

He found Alistair in the garden, his forehead against an apple tree, its blooms starting to fall. Finn stood guard in front him. The old Mabari looked worried and whined at Zevran to confirm it.

"Alistair…"

"Oh leave me alone," the king practically sobbed.

Zevran stood his ground. "We shall find her, safe and sound. And she will have the baby and you and she and all your children will go back to Denerim and make a perfect royal family."

Alistair laughed bitterly.

Zevran continued, "Fergus is putting together search parties, you should be there, commanding them."

The king finally looked to the assassin. "What about you?"

"I am going to follow a hunch. Pray I am wrong."

"What…"

Zevran held up a hand and shook his head. "Just pull yourself together and be the man she loves when we bring her back." With that, Zevran turned and departed.

Alistair sighed with resignation and collapsed onto a bench, the same one he had collapsed on in the same fashion when she had returned from Weisshaupt. They had fought. He'd wanted to get married right away, she insisted on delaying a bit.

They still weren't married, despite his best attempt.

That was going to change.

When Elinora was back in his arms, there would be nothing that could stand between them and proper marriage, he'd seen to that. Maybe then she would stop vanishing from his life.

_…be the man she loves…_

Who was the man she loved?

At Ostagar, his heart had flipped over the moment he saw her. He was in love by the morning after her Joining, after holding her half the night through her fever. Throughout the Blight, he stood by her side, protected her, from one end of Ferelden to the other.

Like she needed a protector.

But she did.

Elinora walked into trouble like a drunkard into a bar. And worse, half the time it was with her eyes wide open. She could handle the trouble she found herself in, most of the time. Other times… he smiled to himself and shook his head, those were the time she needed him.

And then there were the quiet moments. The ones when they didn't have to be king and commander. Those were when she really needed him, and he needed her.

Alistair got off the bench. There was work to do, messages to be sent.

And then he would go find her.

* * *

The Fade

Wynne sat by the Fade-fire, impatiently tapping a finger against her crossed arms. Alistair had never seen her so worried.

"Wynne, what's wrong?"

The old mage looked to Alistair and rose. She tried to smile, but couldn't. She was more transparent than usual and seemed to waiver. "She's in danger."

"I know."

"Not the half of it, my dear boy." She weakly jerked her head toward the edge of the floating island, past the ever-present tent. "Look."

Alistair went to the edge and looked.

Away from him was another island, much smaller and emptier than this one. At the center glowed an oval-shaped orb, warm and welcoming. A black thing, Alistair could only describe it as a solid cloud, hovered underneath the island, tentacles reaching upward toward the surface and the orb upon it.

Standing between the monster and the orb was Duncan.

The old Warden's sword and dagger were out and his entire body was alert. A tentacle would reach up and he would hack it off, some easier than others. The detached end would vanish in a puff of black smoke, and the rest of it would retreat. Another always eventually replaced it.

"Duncan!" Alistair cried. The old warrior turned and gave him an approving nod before going after a thin tentacle that had reached up behind him. Alistair searched for away to get to the island and help him.

A very light touch on Alistair's should prevented him from trying to jump over the abyss. Wynne stood behind him and shook her head. "He protects your child. I protect Elinora and Petra. But neither of us can keep it up for much longer." Wynne looked sad and old. "Get her safe."

With that, Alistair was thrust out of the Fade.

* * *

Highever

The raised alarm of the guards pulled Alistair out of the Fade. He never would have slept, but Fergus had poured several tankards of ale in him to get him stay the night, claiming he needed rest and a direction to go in before riding out. The Teryn was right, but Alistair didn't have to like it.

He threw himself out bed and into a pair of breeches and boots. He was in the Great Hall before Fergus, right when Zevran entered.

Carrying Cailin.

Alistair cried out wordlessly and ran to his nephew.

"The boy is fine," Zevran reported as he passed Cailin into his uncle's arms. "Exhausted and in need of water, but unharmed."

Fergus jogged in and caught sight of Cailin. He swore.

Zevran raised an eyebrow with a smile for Fergus. "Looks like you owe your sister five silvers."

"Not the point." Fergus growled.

"No," Zevran sighed. He would never understand the Cousland sense of humor. "They went south, heading into the Bannorn. Elinora sent the child back to tell us."

Twyla and Maddox rushed in. Twyla gasped at the sight of Cailin.

Cailin wrapped an arm around his uncle's neck and whispered, "Go get mother."

Alistair cuddled his nephew, kissed his forehead and passed him into Twyla's waiting hands. "I need a horse. Now," commanded the king.

Zevran looked to Alistair. "We all do."

Fergus was already barking orders.

Twenty minutes later, Alistair was in the courtyard, armored and ready to ride. A groom held his horse. But the saddle was already occupied, by Cailin.

"No," Alistair said flatly.

Cailin said nothing, but gripped the pommel.

"Cailin, you need to rest," Alistair argued.

"I ate. I drank a bucket of water. Not sleeping, not till she's home." The boy was resolute.

"It would be faster to take him with us than to argue with him." Zevran had fond smile on his face. The boy reminded the former assassin of himself when he was that age, or would have been if he hadn't been a slave.

Alistair said nothing and mounted up, Cailin safely in front of him. Zevran followed suit.

Fergus jogged over to meet them. "I've got one hundred men for you. My best woodsmen and scouts, top warriors and three knights, all ready to head out. That should put you on at least equal footing with the Templars and Wardens if needed. You're sure you don't want the rest, and me?"

"No." Alistair said in his best king voice. "I need the army to head for the western border, as we discussed. Word is going to spread quickly and I want Orlais to see we're ready. And I need you commanding them."

Fergus shook his head. "Your majesty, as your almost-brother-in-law, I feel the need to tell you you're mad, but I will follow your command. But if you return without my sister…"

Alistair smiled. "I fully expect and deserve at least a punch in the face."

Cailin wiggled against his uncle. "Let's go!"

And so they went.


	35. Chapter 34 Mater of Puppets

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 34**

**Mater of Puppets**

The Edges of Bannorn - Spring 2, Day 27

In the purple glow of twilight, they finally stopped. Their pace had been slightly quicker than usual, and for most of the day they had been going downhill, into the Bannorn, Elinora expected. Their halt was late, and she didn't hear the usual sounds of making camp. Voices, male, lots of them, some unfamiliar. A fire glowed beyond their canvas prison walls.

Petra moved to the tailgate of the cart. As her hand pulled the canvas, she was pushed back. Sten's gruff voice commanded, "Stay where are until you are summoned. And make yourself presentable."

Elinora gave the canvas flap a dirty look. They hadn't stopped nearly as often as requested that day. She was cramped and cranky to begin with, but between the orders and insult she was in an extra bad mood. And then there was the kidnapping and not knowing where she was being taken by seemingly possessed Wardens.

This was not going well. And she had no idea what to do about it.

Petra helped Elinora into her low boots and some fresh clothing. Presentable wasn't a bad idea and she hadn't felt presentable in days. She set her old dagger at the end of the mattress, within easy reach from outside the cart. She hadn't gone completely stupid, just very cautious.

Full dark had settled in the wagon when Rainer threw aside the flap and put down the tailgate. He held out a gentlemanly hand. "El, come with me."

Elinora looked up at Rainer, still trying to figure out how to get out of this. With eye contact, all thoughts fell out of her head.

Rainer's eyes were wrong. They had a golden glaze over them, like a thin paint had been spilled over their usual deep blue.

She bit her lip. "No."

Rainer's eyes narrowed. A heartbeat later, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the cart. She protested but didn't struggle. She was more concerned about hurting the baby than fighting her captor.

Once outside, she took a good look around. They were camped in a hollow that backed up to a rocky wall. Trees were thick around, but this area was cleared. Tents circled a massive bonfire centered in the hollow; tents that had been here for a while.

There were new Warden faces around the camp, ones that hadn't been in Highever with Rainer's party. They had been waiting, and were golden-eyed to a man. Those eyes watched her impassively.

A dark slash in the rock wall of the back of the camp looked to be a cave in the firelight. Picks and shovels were scattered around it. Elinora caught a glimpse of what looked like dwarven carving before Rainer tugged her to face a large tent.

Rainer let go of her arm and took up a guard position behind her, his hands lightly on her shoulders. Barth dragged a much more pliant Petra along as well. Elinora hardly noticed.

Morrigan emerged from the large tent, a dark smile on her face.

"This is all your doing, isn't it?" growled Elinora.

The witch shook her head as her grin widened. "I serve something much, much greater than myself." She closed the distance between the two them, her hand resting gently on Elinora's belly. Elinora tried to retreat from Morrigan's touch, but Rainer was a solid wall behind her.

Morrigan sighed. "After all we have been through together. No matter." She stepped back and turned. "Ashling, come out and join us."

A little girl pushed aside the tent flap and shyly crept to Morrigan's side, her golden eyes fixed on Elinora.

Elinora knew; she could sense and see it. This was the child conceived that night in Redcliff. This was the child with the soul of an Old God. This was the child in the Divine's vision.

Alistair's eldest daughter.

Morrigan smiled down at the girl and stroked her wheat-gold hair. "No need to be shy, child. This is an old friend of your mother's, one that I fought the Archdemon with. In fact," Morrigan looked back to Elinora. "This is the Warden that slew the Archdemon."

Ashling stepped away from her mother, the shyness gone. "I have you to thank for my creation." Her voice was still that of a little girl, but her tone was ancient. Elinora shivered. Rainer's hands squeezed her shoulders. The girl approached Elinora with reverence, gently laying her head against the bulge of Elinora's belly. "Hello, little brother. We have such plans for you."

Elinora's blood turned to ice and the baby kicked. "What plans?"

Ashling pulled her head away, but replaced it with a light hand. "The Old Gods sleep beneath the earth, singing to those that would hear. Unfortunately, the Chant drowns out the song. The Darkspawn hear it, but bring corruption and what was once a god becomes an Archdemon. That will not do." Ashling's voice faded.

Morrigan put a proud hand on her daughter's shoulder. "They need a pure vessel, one that can hear them. All Grey Wardens hear the Calling, but they do not listen. They push it away, wall it out, until the wall cannot hold anymore and the Deep Roads await."

Elinora looked around her at the still Wardens, their golden stares empty. "They hear it, don't they?"

"They hear her," Morrigan nodded down to Ashling, who smiled up at her mother. "A pure, true song, and they obey her."

Elinora's eyes narrowed. "But not by choice."

Morrigan shrugged, but Ashling answered. "They all choose to hear me, and who can resist something so beautiful?"

"Urthemiel, Dragon of Beauty." Elinora whispered.

Morrigan smiled as Ashling scowled. "Ugly name. Mama chose better. You destroyed the corrupted vessel. And now we have another pure one, strong with Warden blood, ready to carry another of my kind."

The baby kicked, hard.

Ashling pulled back her hand as if it had been burnt. Her golden eye's narrowed. "Something is wrong."

Again, he kicked, harder than the last time. Elinora grunted, her hands instinctively stroking her belly. That usually helped, but he kicked again and again, each time with more force. Before she even realized, Rainer was supporting her and she was wailing in pain.

"Surrender!"

The Wardens spun, except for Rainer who was protectively holding Elinora. Into the edges of the firelight strode a haggard Templar, armed and ready. Templar after Templar emerged from the darkness, surrounding the camp and slimly outnumbering the Wardens. "Hand over the girl or we will take her by force!"

Wardens drew weapons, but held their positions. No one was surrendering.

Elinora screamed and all eyes turned to her. Her belly was visibly contorting. It felt like the baby was going to rip through her abdomen.

Which he was.

There were whispered prayers to Andraste and the Maker from the Templars, but the warriors did not move.

Petra threw off Barth's grip and ignored the Templars to run to Elinora.

"Stop!" ordered the Knight-Commander. He took a step toward Petra, and two Wardens took a step toward him.

Elinora wailing again.

Petra shot the Knight-Commander a look that froze him. "You will let me tend to this woman. Unless you want whatever is inside of her unleashed on the world, you will not interfere!"

He nodded once and backed off.

Petra's hands moved up and down Elinora's belly, using every bit of magical and medical knowledge she had. "Try to stay calm, El," Petra said evenly, though her pale face said she was terrified. Elinora tried the breathing she'd been taught, but it all became little yelps of agony.

Petra pulled away, staring in disbelief and Elinora's wriggling belly. "I can't… I can't do anything. Nothing's touching it." The mage moved to put Elinora's arm over her shoulders. "We've got to…"

"No."

Everyone looked to the small girl who had spoken. Ashling looked horrified and confused as she placed both hands on Elinora's visibly writhing belly. "No, no, little brother," she whispered. "It's too soon." Her expression grew desperate. "Not like this, no…" Ashling looked up to Elinora, her eyes glowing like twin suns.

A brash young Templar took a step forward, sword poised to attack. Ashling swung to face him, one small hand in front of her, one still on Elinora's shifting belly. "No!" she shouted.

With the clatter of armor, the Templar collapsed. In the moment of shocked silence, Ashling inhaled sharply, her arms dropping to her side. Her eyes dimmed a little and she smiled. "Ah. That will work. We'll meet soon, little brother."

Elinora opened her mouth and only managed, "What…"

Ashling raised her pudgy arms over her head with a deep inhale. Everyone in the camp, Wardens, Templars and mages, swayed. With an exhale, the little girl clapped her hands to Elinora's belly.

With a rush of pure power, the world went white.

Elinora screamed.

Then there was silence.

Elinora opened eyes she didn't know she'd closed.

She was the only one standing.

Elinora blinked. Her belly was bruised and achy, but no longer trying to break open. And for the first time, she could sense her baby. He was confused. She didn't know babies could be confused.

She was certainly confused, and dizzy.

Templars and Wardens were scattered on the ground like fallen leaves. Petra was draped over Rainer's still form. She was just raised enough and Elinora was able to bend just enough to find the mage's thready pulse. Petra was still alive. Hopefully that meant the others were too.

Ashling lay in a golden heap at her feet. Morrigan had neatly fainted in front of her tent. How long until they woke up? What if the Templars woke first? What if they were dead? She didn't have time or even the ability to check them all. Elinora had more important things to worry about.

Not worry. Panic.

She couldn't get her mind to think past one, irrepressible thought.

Run.

With as much haste as she could manage this heavy with child and armed only with a dagger, Elinora plunged into the woods, heading north.


	36. Chapter 35 Into the Woods

_A/N: The next couple chapters are flow very quickly from one to the next, only hours elapsing between them. I'm not giving you dates or locations until they matter again… and they will. Hope everyone is still enjoying this!_

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 35**

**Into the Woods**

Alistair rode as hard as he could, due south. Zevran kept up, but many of the soldiers fell behind. As the sun got low, he tried to convince the king it was time to stop, but Alistair kept pushing. It was Cailin nearly falling off his horse that convinced Alistair to call a halt.

They stopped for the night on the edge of a forest, the last of the rocky wilds before the flat of the Bannorn. They set up a rough camp to rest for the night. But Alistair couldn't sleep and the food tasted of ashes.

They had to be getting close. The road had seen a wagon and men marching recently, or at least that's what the scouts said. Elinora could be less that a mile away, or twenty, he didn't know. Why did horses need rest?

He paced the camp, and then he paced southward, and didn't pace back.

He had to find her.

* * *

Morrigan awoke with the first rays of the sun. She rose, looked around her, and worried.

No one moved, though everyone lived.

Elinora was missing.

So was Ashling.

Panic clawed at her, material instinct demanding the immediate reappearance of her daughter. Morrigan searched the camp, called out, but nothing.

And then she noticed what she had missed in her panic; the cave had collapsed.

Once it had been a passage into the Deep Roads, lost in time and vegetation. The Wardens had been very useful in excavating it. Somewhere, deep below, an Old One rested. But now it was, again, lost.

And Ashling could be on the other side.

Morrigan ordered herself to relax and focus, drawing on lessons that Flemeth had taught her long ago. Her heart stopped pounding and she was able to think. The child was not visible and couldn't be heard, but maybe smell was the answer.

The witch chided herself for not thinking of it sooner. With a raise of her arms and surge of power, she transformed into a black-furred wolf.

Once the disorientation of transformation wore off, she sniffed around. Only a vague hint of Ashling was around the cave, but the scent was much stronger going north, into the woods.

Morrigan set off on her daughter's trail.

* * *

Rainer cracked his eyes to the bright mid-morning sun, Petra sprawled out on top of him. He gently lifted her off of him and laid her down on the ground. With a spinning head, he assessed the situation.

Three Wardens and two Templars were awake, both shooting unfocused dirty looks at each other. Everyone else was still on the ground. Everyone but Ashling and Morrigan. He looked to the cave he'd noticed last night, but found only a pile of rubble.

Elinora was gone.

But she hadn't hidden her tracks.

Rainer started to follow them when he heard the distinct sound of a sword being pulled from its sheath. The First Warden looked over to find the Knight-Commander drawing steel and ready to fight.

"Hold." Rainer said steadily. "Commander, let's not."

"We have our orders," he growled.

Rainer kept his hands out and empty. "Are your orders to kill my men?"

The Templar's eyes narrowed. "No. They are to take Elinora Cousland into custody. After what we saw, we're taking the witch and her get too."

Morrigan. What have you done, woman?

"Listen," Rainer continued evenly, "They're all gone, and I don't know where. So, why don't we put up our weapons and worry about our men, and then deal with the missing women and children."

The Commander considered a minute, then nodded curtly. "Never liked this assignment anyway." His sword went back into its sheath.

Rainer returned his nod and held out a hand. "First Warden Rainer of Weisshaupt."

With a measured look, the Commander took it, "Templar Knight-Commander Hegarty, usually assigned to Denerim."

"Good," Rainer smiled his most charming smile and started checking his men. Barth was setting Petra in a tent as he completed his rounds. "Do you know what happened?" he demanded of the massive warrior.

"No, and I'm not sure I want to. What in the Maker's name are we doing here, boss?"

Rainer shook his head. "I have no idea. I remember we were traveling to Amaranthine, but this isn't it, and I'm pretty sure we're nowhere near it." He gave the terrain a puzzled look, and then refocused on the route north. "There is one set of very unsteady tracks leading north into the woods. I'm going to follow her. Barth, you're in charge. Make sure the Wardens and Templars don't kill each other. Have Petra follow me as soon as she's able; Elinora may need her. Send out search parties if you want to for Morrigan and the girl, but I have a feeling they're long gone."

Barth nodded, "Right, boss."

Rainer supplied up with injury kits, poultices and water, then set off on Elinora's trail.

* * *

Around mid-afternoon, Petra woke up. Her first thought was one of puzzlement as to why she should be in a tent and not in her warm bed in the Tower. And then she remembered.

She remembered everything.

Out of the tent and into the dazzling daylight, Petra slammed into Barth, who had been guarding her while directing Wardens and Templars into search parties and medic teams. Some had not recovered so neatly from the incident the night before. Several Templars were busily throwing up in the trees.

"Where is she?" Petra demanded.

Barth, unused to dealing with aggressive women, or women at all, stammered, "She went that way," he pointed off to the north. "Rainer followed her a few hours ago."

Petra was digging in her belt pouch even before Barth had finished talking. She pulled out a small chunk of crystal with a brown smudge on it. "I need a party of men, your best for trekking through the wilds. And a stretcher." She marched over to the Knight-Commander of the Templars, ready to fight him tooth and nail if needed. "Hegraty, I need you to send men back to the Tower and bring us some healers."

He blinked at her. "Healer Petra, I haven't seen you in…" he shook his grizzled head. "Never mind, I'll lead them myself. The Tower's only a day off if we push." He turned and called for men ready to travel. About half the Templars headed out in within five minutes, eager to be away from this place.

Petra turned away from the departing Templars and turned her attention to the crystal. She thought it glowed a little, but it could be a trick of the sunlight. Either way, she wasn't wasting time.

"I need injury kits and poultices!" she called to scurrying Wardens.

Barth shrugged at her. "Rainer took at least half…" The massive Warden's words dried up as the thunder of hooves echoed down the road.

Petra did not need any more surprises or distractions. Elinora was out there somewhere and far too close to her delivery to be tromping about the woods. Petra needed to get her somewhere civilized, clean. More soldiers were not what she needed.

"Petra!"

Even before the horse had stopped, its rider had slid off and was running toward her. Cailin slammed into her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a fierce hug. "Where's mother?"

Petra looked northward, into the woods. "Out there somewhere."

Zevran jogged to catch up to Cailin. "What happened?" the elf asked simply.

Petra's lips thinned. "A simple life drain spell on a mass scale. She got every single one of us, except Elinora."

Zevran's brow furrowed. "She?"

"Morrigan and Ashling." Barth stepped to them.

Zevran motioned to the disoriented and still unconscious warriors. "Morrigan did this?"

"No," Barth rumbled. "Ashling. Ashling's been doing it all." Within a few moments, Barth and Petra had filled them in on the events of the previous evening and a few details from previous months.

Cailin tugged on Petra's hand. "We need to find her!"

Petra looked to the crystal again. "We have time, I think."

Zevran frowned. "Alistair is out there somewhere, searching for her, but Morrigan and her child could be as well."

"And Rainer," added Barth.

Zevran's frown deepened. "Catch up when you are supplied and ready. Come, Cailin."

Petra opened her mouth to protest, but the elf and child were already running into the woods.


	37. Chapter 36 Running up that Hill

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 36**

**Running up that Hill**

The first contraction hit around sunset.

Elinora had slowly hiked a full day, due north from the Warden's camp. She was snaking her way up a steep hill, managing about three steps before having to stop and catch her breath. If she was lucky, there was a tree to lean on. If she was very lucky there was something to sit on.

When the contraction hit, she wasn't so lucky.

Elinora lost her balance and fell, fortunately managing to turn to use the incline of the landscape to shorten the fall and catching most of the impact on her left shoulder. She rolled with impact on to her back and slid a couple of feet. There she stayed, letting the pain pass. She tried to count, but with no luck.

"Not now," she whispered to the child inside her. "Not yet."

The pain eased. She stayed on the ground and counted in the twilight. At six hundred and four another contraction hit. She counted. Sixty-seven.

It could be false labor, it could not be time.

But it could the real thing.

She needed to move, find some place safer, sheltered. Hopefully with a midwife and a fire and water and blankets and Alistair. A girl could wish.

Still counting, she rolled on to all fours. Elinora crawled to a friendly rock and used it to get herself back on her feet. At five hundred and seventy-six, another wave of pain took her. Through gritted teeth, she counted aloud. Seventy-one.

Ten more steps uphill in the deepening darkness. Five hundred and sixty-three seconds. Contraction. Seventy-seven seconds.

With the ebb of the last wave of pain, Elinora took a good look around.

She'd almost made it to the top of the hill. A massive pine tree waited, roots twining around the rocks, standing alone. It was pretty, but unimportant at the moment. What mattered was the wide view of the surrounding wilderness, which was just that, wilderness. No settlements, no campfires. No help.

Another contraction sent a crescendo of pain from her lower back all the way through her womb. Elinora didn't count this time, she just howled. When the pain was over, she realized that her legs were wet.

That confirmed it. Within a day her baby would no longer be safe in her womb.

She shouted her frustration to the heavens.

* * *

Alistair froze, gripping a tree branch that was going to launch him up the hill. He could have sworn he'd heard Elinora cry. It wasn't a sound he was deeply familiar with; she wasn't the crybaby he was.

And then he heard the roaring shout. That was defiantly her. That was the cry she often issued in battle, usually when injured and angry about it.

Alistair focused a moment. He felt the tug, the one that had pulled him off the main road in the first place. West. And up.

He threw himself upward and westward. "I'm coming, darling. I'm coming."

* * *

Rainer stopped as the last of the sun's rays faded. He'd heard a cry and tried to figure out its direction. An angry shout followed it. North. He pushed on up the hill.

* * *

Elinora managed to get herself to the great tree. She found a nice spot beneath it, a little hollow of soft ground, littered with pine needles, with a high root on one side and a solid rock on the other. They would provide her with something to grip and some support when the time came. For now she stayed on her feet, her back against the tree. She paced when she could, Petra said that was good for labor, until a contraction put her on her knees. She draped her arms on the root and pillowed her head against them until it passed.

She counted. At eleven a tear rolled down her cheek. At seventeen another. By the thirties she was crying outright.

She was alone in the wilderness. Alone and about to rip her child from her own womb. Which was better than him ripping himself out. She shuddered. At least her baby was safe from Morrigan and her Old God-child. Hopefully. Three hundred and forty-five.

Another contraction, she didn't count for how long, she didn't care. She panted through it, wishing and cursing in her head the whole time.

She wanted a proper bed, a cold compress on her forehead, experienced women around her, coaching her through. She wanted Petra and Twyla and Wynne and Orianna and most especially her mother. All there, all assuring her it was going to be alright. And if it wasn't, there to take care of her son.

More than anything, Elinora wanted Alistair.

She wanted his strong hand threaded through hers. She wanted to castrate him for leaving her and for getting her pregnant in the first place. She wanted him saying foolish things to distract her from all the hurting. She wanted the warmth and reassurance that was Alistair.

But here she was; cold ground, clothes on her back, dagger at her side and alone. And crying. Sobs choked from her body, howling her misery to the newly risen moon.

* * *

Alistair pulled himself up on a rock and paused. As he caught his breath, he sensed a Grey Warden off to his right. He followed its lead, grateful that it was not going up for the moment, and hopeful that Elinora was just around the bend.

Rainer stopped staring at the inclined ground and looked up. He could feel a Warden along the bond, one that wasn't here a moment before. He headed toward it and stopped on a wide rocky ledge.

Alistair stepped into the moonlight.

The two looked at each other for a long moment, shields and swords still on their backs. But the friendly terms they had parted on were forgotten, stolen in a cart going the wrong way.

* * *

Zevran caught sight of Rainer as he abruptly left the trail Elinora had left behind. The assassin stalked him, despite Cailin's very quiet protest. Once Zevran saw Alistair, he wasn't moving, but a quick hand signal and Cailin was back on his mother's trail.

Rainer's back was to Zevran, Alistair directly opposite. Zevran moved just enough to get into Alistair's line of sight. The king almost imperceptibly shook his head. Zevran stepped back and nocked an arrow anyway. One way or the other, Alistair was winning this fight.

* * *

With a slight shake of his head, Alistair asked, "Why did you do it, Rainer?" His voice was tightly controlled and his look deadly.

Rainer's expression matched the king's. "Because you failed her."

Alistair drew weapons, Maric's sword and Cailan's shield. "At least I didn't kidnap her. Couldn't stand that she turned you down?"

Rainer lips twisted in something like a smile and followed suit. "But she didn't turn me down, did she?"

Alistair lunged, focusing the anger that he buried for Elinora's sake, aiming for a quick strike to the heart. Rainer blocked with his shield and swung for Alistair's neck but met the king's shield instead.

Alistair took the opening and tried to thrust under Rainer's guard. It failed, but Rainer staggered back and set into a fighting crouch. They circled.

One of them was going to attack, but neither wanted to be the first. Wardens did not kill other Wardens for personal reasons, though this had left personal a long time ago.

They both heard it at the same time. A scream echoed from the rock above them. Rainer flinched, but didn't take his eyes off of his rival. Alistair forgot the fight and looked up, searching for the source, eyes wide and panicked. "I'm coming!" he called out.

Rainer attacked, poorly. To do more than get his opponent's attention would have been dishonorable. If he was to beat Alistair, it would have to be with honor. She would never forgive him otherwise.

Alistair batted away the feeble attack with a look of anguish. "Rainer, I get it, I really do. How could you not love her? How could anyone?" Alistair put up his sword and shield, unarmed but for his heart. "But if you have any love at all for her, you'll let me go to her."

Rainer's jaw tightened as he poised to strike.

Her wails filled the darkness.

"For Andraste's sake, man!" Alistair stepped into the reach of Rainer's sword. "She's in agony!"

Several heartbeats passed, filled with nothing but Elinora's pained sobs. Rainer dropped his sword and shield and fell to his knees, his head lowered. He closed his eyes against a pain deeper than any mortal wound. "Go."

Alistair went.

* * *

Morrigan watched as Alistair defeated Rainer with words. She never would have believed it if she hadn't witnessed it herself. Alistair headed off into the darkness, following the cries that were deafening to her wolf ears. Rainer stayed on his knees.

She transformed, wolf to human, and gave herself a minute before approaching the kneeling warrior.

Gently, she stroked his cheek, cupped his chin and forced him to look up at her. As his blue eyes met her amber, she said with more sincerity than she ever had, "I am sorry."

With a rush of movement and a roar of anger, Rainer pushed Morrigan away and himself off the ground, retrieving his sword as he did. "You bitch. What did you do to me?"

Morrigan sighed. She could paralyze or drain him and run, but now, it seemed with the time for the truth. "Ashling wanted an army to protect her and help her bring another of her kind into the world. She wanted the Wardens, whom she can control through the bond, and she wanted your undying loyalty." Morrigan's gaze shifted to the ground. "We made good use of your feelings for Elinora, figuring it was an easy route to your devotion."

Rainer rested his sword or Morrigan's shoulder, an easy flick of the wrist to her neck. "Is she controlling them now?"

Morrigan glanced casually at the sword. "I am not certain, but I do not believe so. The connection was broken when she drained everyone, and it took months to build. No, this plan has failed, but I fear she is going to make one last attempt. She is not far ahead of us, and neither is Elinora."

Rainer turned and marched for the crest of the hill.

Fear constricted Morrigan's chest. "Where are you going?"

"To end this."

Rainer froze, a paralysis glyph surrounding him.

"I cannot allow you to do that," Morrigan whispered. She stepped in front of Rainer, again meeting his eyes. "She is still my daughter. Know this as well; outside of the illusions of Elinora, everything between us was real, at least for me." She softly touched her warm lips on his frozen ones. "Find us in the Korcari Wilds."


	38. Chapter 37 Special Delivery

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden – Chapter 37**

**Special Delivery**

Cailin scrambled up and over the rocks, following the sounds of his mother's pain. Part of him wanted to run away, but that part was weak, and weak was bad. He would be there for her and for his new brother.

He thought he saw movement in the darkness under the tree. "Mother?" he called softly.

"Cailin?" Her voice was strained and breathy. He found under the big tree, between a rock and a root. She seemed to be wet and was sweating. Her eyes, always big and luminous, grew wider at the sight of him. "Pup, what are you doing here?"

"Helping. Petra's coming. So's Zevran and uncle and Rainer maybe."

"And me."

Cailin swung to find the new voice as Elinora pushed herself up to see.

Ashling stared at Cailin, golden eyes evaluating him. "You are not her son."

Cailin didn't say anything, but stepped closer to Elinora and picked up her dagger. The Rose's Thorn was almost a sword to the boy. He placed himself between the woman he called mother and this girl he didn't know, but didn't like.

Ashling raised her hands. "I'm not going to hurt her, cousin. I just want the baby. I have plans for my brother."

"Oh?" a warm, male voice emerged from the darkness. "And what would those be?" Alistair stepped up to his daughter, sword and shield out, and Templar powers humming.

"Father," she said, turning to him. Brown eyes met golden.

Elinora cried out with another contraction. "Alistair!"

He forgot that he had asked a question, forgot about the little girl, forgot that there was anything else is the world besides Elinora. He ran to her, dropping sword and shield to fall to her side, squeezing next to the root. Alistair cupped her face in gauntleted hands. "I'm sorry, I never should have…" He stopped trying to explain and kissed her.

The contraction was forgotten at the touch of his lips. It faded away into a warmth and security that she hadn't felt in months. The kiss's temporary distraction broke with a sharp jolt of pain, the final reminder of the contraction. Elinora pulled away with a small cry and rested her head on Alistair's shoulder.

He pulled off his gauntlets and stroked her hair. "Tell me what to do, darling. You were always so good at that."

She grasped his hand, her fingers threading through his. "Just hold me, talk to me."

Alistair had a fine collection of Denerim gossip, bits and pieces told between kisses big and small. He saved the juiciest part for last. "I probably shouldn't tell you this now, but I've had the Grand Cleric arrested. Ferelden is going to control her own Chantry from now on."

"What?" was swallowed by the next contraction. She howled a string of incomprehensible questions between pants.

Once it was over, Alistair kissed her forehead and wiggled his fingers, aching from the Elinora's painful grip. "When we get home, we're going to get our little family together and get married, and no one can say a damn thing about it."

Cailin smiled at that, though neither Elinora nor Alistair noticed. He had not taken his eyes off the girl in front of him. Neither of them had moved, though Ashling had watched Alistair and Elinora carefully.

Ashling noticed Cailin's smile and added a soft one of her own, just for the boy. "Come with us, cousin. You, me and our little brother. We will be a family and no one could take us away from each other, ever."

"You're just a little girl," Cailin growled.

Ashling's eyes flared, a sunburst in the night. "I am not a little girl!" She took a step forward.

Cailin darted the dagger out in a quick, deft thrust, scoring a scratch on the girl's upper arm. Her sleeve slit open and stained red.

Ashling's hand flew to the wound as she staggered back in shock. "That… hurt…" She stared at her hand, now coated in blood. "How could… how dare you!" Her eyes flared again as she lunged for Cailin.

* * *

Zevran watched. He watched as Morrigan confronted the First Warden and left him paralyzed, and watched as the glyph wore off. Rainer's broad shoulders sagged without the immobilization of the spell, and he set himself on a rock with his face in his hands.

The Crow stepped out of hiding and approached Rainer smoothly. "Tell me why I should not kill you."

Rainer's hands fell away from his face with a sigh. "I can't." He gave Zevran a doleful look. "Just end it, just like you did with Quennel. I deserve it as much as he did."

Zevran leaned against a tree and causally crossed his arms, studying the once proud warrior. "Perhaps, but you are a better man than he could ever aspire to be. He was never sorry for his transgressions."

The First Warden studied the ground. "I only wanted to protect her, to love her even."

"And yet…"

Rainer sighed. "And yet. I've lost." His eyes closed in resignation.

"And you will not trouble her again?" Zevran asked carefully.

Rainer huffed a bitter laugh. "No. I am not worthy."

His answer was met with silence. When he looked back up, Zevran was gone.

* * *

Cailin was ready for a fight, but Ashling collapsed before her feet left the ground.

"That is enough from you, young lady." Morrigan, one hand glowing, slowly approached the royal family.

Her heart sank as Alistair lifted his sword and Elinora pinned her with a look usually reserved for Darkspawn. She deserved the enmity of those she once call companions, even friends. "I am sorry," she said for the second time that night.

"Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it," Alistair growled, moving away from Elinora to allow himself more mobility. Elinora whimpered a bit, which he heard all the way to his soul.

"Alistair," Morrigan began, keeping her voice smooth and even, "go back to her. Hold and comfort her. Welcome your son into the world together. I just want to take our daughter."

Alistair's posture relaxed a little, though Cailin's did not. The king considered, his grip shifting on his father's sword.

"Alistair!" Elinora cried out as a new contraction squeezed her.

He sheathed his sword. "Take the girl and go." He looked away, eyes hooded. "I don't want to see either of you again."

Morrigan gathered the sleeping Ashling up and held her like any mother would her child. She turned and headed back down the hill.

Alistair rested a hand on Cailin's shoulder as he watched the witch and his daughter vanish into the night. "Good work, son. Keep on look out." He returned to his love's side, encouraging her to heap abuse on him through the pain.

Zevran turned up eventually, though neither Alistair or Elinora noticed. He and Cailin continued to stand watch, silent, eyes and ears searching the darkness. They saw little, but Elinora's cries went from little whimpers to full blown howls. Alistair's soft voice was ever there, comforting and distracting, but the atmosphere on the hilltop was tense. So much so, Zevran nearly shot the first Warden he saw.

"Whoa, hey," said the young man; Orlesian accent, leather armor, a scout, "Petra's coming. She knew right where you'd be."

Zevran held him at sword point until the mage appeared. Petra was quite annoyed, but couldn't blame him. She had a dozen Wardens with her, all bearing something, water, canvas, blankets, medical supplies. Zevran took her to Elinora immediately.

Petra shooed Alistair away from Elinora's side as the mage knelt and looked both of them over. "Get that armor off and then you can help. Last thing she needs is to bang her head against cold metal."

Between his own haste and many helpers, Alistair had never been out of armor so fast in his life.

Hands glowing and breathing steady, Petra examined Elinora. "When did the contractions begin?"

"Sunset," Elinora gasped.

The corners of Petra's mouth turned down. She rose and looked at the milling Wardens. This situation was in desperate need of controlling. "Alright you lot, we can't move her, so this is happening here. I need some of you to find the shortest and easiest route to the main road, and some of you to go back to camp and get the cart to that point and wait. Once the baby comes we'll get her out on the stretcher and back to Highever. I need water now and more heating. Bring two of those clean blankets to me. Build the fire over there." She pointed to an open space close, but not too close, to the tree and Elinora. The Wardens blinked at Petra. "Now!"

The men divided themselves into scouting parties as Petra took the blankets from a Warden mage. "Evard, make sure my orders are followed, I have a mother to tend to."

She returned to her charge's side as Alistair waited for his orders, which Petra had for him. "Your majesty, you are going get behind her and be her support. She should sit up, leaning against your chest and between your legs. I'm afraid you're probably going to come out of this with bruises."

Alistair took the clean tunic Evard handed him and followed Petra's instructions. She handed him a wet cloth and a water skin with orders to use both as needed. Elinora drank furiously and he wiped the sweat from her brow. "Just like the when we met," he whispered.

Elinora lolled her head against his solid. The smell of Alistair was heavenly. "Let's hope with the same results."

He nuzzled her ear. "Better." His lips brushed the tattoo on the back of her neck. "Still can't believe you talked me into that. Never been in that much pain on purpose in my life."

"If you want pain…" Elinora slammed her hands onto his thighs as another contraction hit her. Alistair would defiantly have bruises. And maybe scars if she kept digging in her nails like that.

Petra and Evard managed to get clean blankets under Elinora and mage lights glowed from crystals set on the rock and root. Petra cleaned her up and made her and Alistair as comfortable as she could with blankets and tent canvas, but didn't say much in the process.

Hours passed in a blur of contractions. Alistair babbled with gossip and news. Elinora could hear men come and go, giving Petra reports. Eventually, she and Alistair both fell into something like sleep, though she awakened every few minutes with another wave of pain.

And then it changed. "Petra…" Her thought was broken by another contraction and an overwhelming urge to push.

Petra knelt directly in front of her, her expression very serious. "Alright, Elinora, now for the hard part. Follow your instincts and listen to me. Push when you want to push, deep breaths in between."

Elinora pushed, pain shooting through her body as she tried to bring her child into the world. Her heart pounded fit to break through her chest. She had no idea how long it went on, push after push. A thousand Darkspawn were easier than this, a million, the Archdemon itself.

She would have given up, but Alistair's strong arms banded around her, between breasts and belly, soft words keeping her anchored, encouraging her every moment. Elinora tried to focus past the pain, focus on the fight, on Alistair's voice.

But the pain.

"With the next contraction, push with everything you've got!"

The fighting.

"You can do it, my love."

That push was one too many.

"No!"

It all stopped.

Elinora felt a glow and a pull. She opened her eyes to find herself on their Fade island. She didn't hurt anymore; she didn't feel heavy or clumsy, just the opposite. Soft warmth flowed through her. Above her was a brightness she couldn't stand, but felt drawn to.

"Oh no you don't, young lady."

Wynne's voice, but Elinora couldn't find her in all that brightness. Not that she had long to search. A driving force slammed into her chest, throwing both her and her assailant over the edge of the island. She wailed to who ever would pull her away from paradise, from rest.

And found Duncan.

"You're not done, and neither am I," he said stoically as they fell forever. He tucked her form close to his, like a father comforting his child.

And then the world was agony.

Reality slammed back into her, and with that momentum she pushed, her roar echoing through the forest.

She heard the cry of a baby, and then everything went muzzy.

Alistair was hauled away from Elinora's limp form and replaced by Evard. Petra was saying things like "heart stopped" and "bleeding" and other things that couldn't penetrate Alistair's brain. Petra shoved something wrapped in cloth into his hands as the mages cast glyphs and glows. He looked down to find his son in his arms.

The baby, still bloody from his entrance into the world, wiggled a bit and mewled. He seemed content, despite the chaos going on around him. Slowly, so slowly, his brand new eyes opened.

Duncan's eyes.

"Hello, Duncen." Alistair felt the smile creep onto his lips.

"She's breathing!" Evard had a hand on Elinora's chest and her head tipped back.

Petra nodded to him. "I've got the bleeding under control. How's her heart? Pulse?"

The healer's hands moved. "Weak, but steady. I'll be damned, I think she's going to live."

Alistair nearly dropped Duncen. The events of the last few moments had finally sunk in. "She… no…" Duncen wailed. Daddy had held him just a bit too tight, and he was expressing his displeasure. Alistair panicked. "Petra… I don't know… what?"

Petra stood, exhausted and covered in the viscera of life, and drew her last reserve of patience. "Your majesty, Elinora is fine, or will be with rest and healing. Your son is fine. Unhealthy babies don't cry like that. I need you to let us work."

"But…"

"Just let us work."

Alistair stood back, watching as they tended to Elinora. He rocked and murmured to Duncen. The baby calmed, newly fascinated by the rising sun. At some point, dawn had broken. "See that, Duncen," Alistair whispered to his son, "That's Ferelden. You're a prince of her, and a Grey Warden, or so they tell me. But don't let all that tie you down."

He looked down at a tug on his sleeve. Cailin stood there, a wet cloth in his hand. Alistair knelt. "Cailin, this is your brother, Duncen. Alright, cousin, technically. But…"

"He's my brother," the boy stated plainly. He took the cloth and gently wiped away the blood and mess still on Duncen.

Alistair kissed his nephew's forehead, and greeted the new day with a massive smile of pride.

_A/N – Not quite done yet… in fact, not remotely done yet._


	39. Chapter 38 Everything's Alright

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, my dear readers. Tying up all the fiddly bits doesn't flow as well and I managed to get myself a wicked sinus infection. Not so good for the creativity, or the breathing. The good news is that this is a wicked fat chapter!_

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 38**

**Everything's Alright**

9:36 Dragon, Spring 3, 5th day

"All set then?"

"Am I?" Elinora asked.

Wynne chuckled. "As much as any new mother ever is, maybe more."

"I have to go, don't I?"

"I'm afraid so."

"It hurts out there."

Wynne smiled her old smile. "It will get better."

A cry pierced the Fade. Elinora cringed and smiled at the same time. "I have to go. He's hungry again. Good-bye Wynne."

"Good-bye, my dear girl."

* * *

Elinora's eyes opened to the room they had opened to for most of her life. But the last baby to cry in here had been her, and now it was her son. Fitting, she thought.

Alistair was already up, Duncen cuddled against his bare chest, making cooing noises. He brought the baby over to Elinora as she sat up and tugged down her nightgown. Duncen happily latched on to the offered breast. Alistair slung a cloth over one shoulder and slid back into bed. He kissed her cheek and ran a loving finger down his son's. Snuggled next to both of them, he was prepared to do anything she asked or just enjoy a moment of quiet family bliss.

Elinora whispered, "What time is it?"

Alistair shrugged, "After midnight, before dawn."

"I noticed a messenger from Denerim showed up yesterday." Elinora stated casually.

"Oh no." Alistair used his firm voice, the one with a king's authority. "No politics or worldly problems. You are going to rest and recover." Duncen's birth had not been kind to Elinora's body and Petra was doing her damnedest to keep the new mother in bed. For once, she was following the mage's advice. "You're not allowed to even think about anything past healing and our little prince here."

The look Elinora gave him said he had no authority here. "I will rest, I will heal and Duncen isn't interested in much besides eating and being in my arms."

Alistair grinned. "Well then, my love, off you go, commanding armies with a baby on your knee. Wonder if they make armor with an easy-open breastplate? Can't have Duncen going hungry on the war path."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not talking about going charging off into battle.

Besides, you sent the army and my brother to the western front to discourage an Orlesian invasion." She shook her head. "There's work to be done."

Duncen detached himself and burbled. Alistair scooped him up and draped the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back. He slid out of bed, wishing he had done this will all of his children. "Your mama is such a killjoy, Duncen." The baby spit up his agreement on the cloth Alistair had ready. Father laid his son in the cradle with a kiss.

Alistair hopped back into bed with a grin and a snuggle for the woman he loved, finally mother of one of his children. "Come on darling, let's forget about the troubles of the world and get the few hours sleep he allows us. We'll deal with the problems as the messengers bring them."

"Which they will," she muttered.

He kissed her again and tucked her into the safe blankets and his strong arms. "Don't I know it."

* * *

Duncen awoke them at dawn, demanding his next feeding. His dutiful parents obeyed and readied themselves to face the day. They'd had five days of peace, Elinora sleeping through most of them, except when Duncen needed her, which meant she was awakened about every four hours. Alistair rarely left her side, enjoying the opportunity to get some extra rest himself and spend time with his new son.

But they both knew it couldn't last.

Missives came in from Denerim and Fergus's army, which had reached Orzammar. The militia of the southern arls were starting to march for the western front.

It was time to start dealing with the problems of a restless nation.

But Alistair was going to make them work for it.

* * *

The Grey Wardens were getting restless.

They had all returned to Highever after Duncen's birth, grim and confused. Their lives had been hijacked by a god who had them act against one of their own. How it was that Alistair allowed them within a mile of her, she didn't know, and he wouldn't say. Petra had kept Elinora unconscious for the journey back, her condition poor for travel, but she and the baby both needed to be somewhere safe. There simply hadn't been time for much argument.

Only one Warden was unaccounted for; Rainer. His armor, crested with the double-headed griffon of command, and the seal of the First Warden had been found neatly stacked on a rock below where Duncen had been born. They waited in Highever's armory, as the Wardens waited for direction.

They had been patient, but wanted orders.

What had surprised Elinora was that they looked to her for those orders. She had resigned her command, temporarily of course, but Barth was Rainer's second on this campagin. But Barth was a good soldier; he had never fancied himself in a command position and didn't want it. When she'd offered it the day before, he'd refused.

"Barth, why haven't you just gone back to Weisshaupt?" Elinora tried not fidget with the bedclothes as she asked the delicate question. Bad enough this meeting was taking place in her bedroom with her still recovering.

The great warrior, the size and strength of a Qunari but the disposition of a teddy bear, looked uncomfortable and turned his gaze out her window. "El, we failed you. Whether by choice or not, doesn't matter." He wandered over to Duncen's cradle and tickled the baby's chin. "We'll follow your orders, even if it's to fall on our swords."

From the comfy chair next to the fire, Alistair quirked an eyebrow. "That's a bit dramatic, isn't it?"

Barth shrugged. "Maybe, but some of these boys have a deep sense of honor, especially to their own. Besides," he turned a chagrined smile on Elinora, "we trust our El to be fair, after she's done screaming at us, anyway."

At lunch, Elinora surfaced in the Great Hall for the first time since Rainer and his Wardens had bundled her out. She had made her decision.

"Gentlemen, I will keep this brief. Things have changed, for Ferelden, for the Grey Wardens and perhaps for all of Thedas. We need to re-group. Rainer did not choose a successor; therefore I need messengers to carry word to the other Warden commanders in Antvia, Nevarra, Tevinter, Orlais and the Anderfels. If you are one of them, you are welcome to stay at that location, pending that commander's approval. Those of you who do not serve as messengers, can choose your posting; Amaranthine, Orzammar or back to Weisshaupt. Ferelden would be grateful for your service, as our presence is still slim. I also require a messenger to Amaranthine. Work out among yourselves who is going where. I would like answers by supper, and messengers ready to depart at dawn. Questions?"

Sten exchanged a look with Barth. "What if we wish to remain here?"

Elinora mouth curved in a small smile. "I suppose some of you can, but there are missions to complete. Not all of you can lollygag around Highever, chasing a boy and a baby. Dismissed."

Elinora returned to her room, Petra and Alistair close behind her. Neither said anything, though Elinora was certain Petra wanted to lecture her on straining herself. Alistair just took her hand with a proud smile.

The king's morning had been filled with messages as well. He'd left orders with Eamon, plans had been laid over the winter, contingencies thought of, but nothing ever went exactly according to plan. In fact, he was surprised how well things were going in general.

It had been ten days since Alistair had turned Ferelden's religious life on its ear, but so far, no one was rioting.

In fact, everything was terribly normal. Chantries all over Ferelden held services like nothing had changed.

And that had him more worried than anything else.

The Divine would speak eventually, and probably not kindly. In the yawning silence, he would have his armies ready. He was practically daring her to proclaim and Exaulted March, but he would not anything more until provoked.

And in the meantime, he would enjoy every moment he could get with Elinora and his boys, especially these moments when he was reminded why he had fallen in love with her in the first place. The woman was born to command. Alistair couldn't wait to add 'Queen' to her rack of titles.

"Your majesty! My lady! Templars!"

Alistair and Elinora froze at the word. "How many?" Elinora demanded of the guard jogging to a halt in front of them.

"About forty, approaching on foot and slow."

"Hold them at the gate, we'll be there shortly." Elinora looked at Alistair, who nodded, and then to Petra.

The mage rolled her eyes. "I'll get Duncen and Cailin to the north tower, as discussed. And a wet-nurse too. Do not stay on your feet any longer than necessary."

A mischievous grin spread on Alistair's face. "I can carry her, if you'd like."

"Don't tempt me," Petra huffed, and then went to gather up the children.

Elinora pinned Alistair with a look. "Don't even try it."

"Wouldn't dream of it, my love. Come on."

* * *

Outside the gates of Highever, forty-two Templars stood, waiting. As Elinora and Alistair approached, flanked by most of the Wardens and the Highever guard, one aged Templar stepped forward. His movements were confident, but his expression was uncertain.

"What do you want?" demanded Elinora.

"My lady," he bowed slightly. She recognized him. He was the Templar that called for her surrender that harrowing night. "I am here to find King Alistair. We have no intent of attempting to take you or your child."

"Well, that's good," drawled Alistair, "because you are considerably outnumbered. That being said, what do you want?"

The Templar cleared is throat and squared his shoulders. "I, Templar Knight-Commander Hegarty, hereby surrender myself and my men to your custody." With that he drew his sword and knelt, hilt offered to Alistair and head bowed. Forty-one Templars followed him.

Alistair stared at the men knelling before him. "Huh."

* * *

Hegarty slumped in the chair across the desk from Alistair, looking utterly defeated. Petra handed him a cup of tea. Hegarty took it with a suspicious glance, but said, "Thank you. I apologize for not having the healers for you. As I was just telling his majesty, the Tower is completely surrounded by a force field. The innkeeper of the Spoiled Princess informed us that Irving is not letting anyone into or out of the Tower. And we couldn't get close enough to neutralize it, not that we would. At this point…" He shrugged and look unnaturally helpless.

Alistair leaned back in Fergus's chair and studied the Templar. He had never seen a man so broken, so lost. "I'm sorry, Commander Hegarty, for putting you in this position. I'm afraid it will be some time before we sort everything out."

Hegarty stared into his tea cup. "Your majesty, my men are divided. We don't know who we owe our allegiance to; the throne, the Chantry or the only the Maker and Andraste."

Alistair flinched just a little, but quickly smoothed his expression. "I made this choice for Ferelden because she will not take orders from outside her own borders and I will not have her allegiances divided. The Chantry has become far too interested in politics for our comfort, and far too demanding of Ferelden's resources. Our faith has not waivered, but the Chant of Light will be sung in our own voices."

Elinora stared at Alistair from her chair against the wall. The man behind the desk was not the jovial young warrior who had watched her back and slyly talked of licking lampposts. This was a king, one who had greatly gambled with his people's lives, but understood what was at stake. Before him sat a man who's life had been destroyed by a king's choices, and Alistair would make amends, but would not regret his actions.

"Your men should pray for guidance," Elinora murmured.

Alistair looked at her. "My dear, you give me an idea." He looked back to Hegarty. "If any of your Templars so choose, they may go to Orlais and serve the Divine. In fact, there will be a party of Wardens heading there in the morning, if you care to join them."

"And if my men don't want to leave their homeland, your majesty?"

"Ferelden's Chantries still need your services. The army has marched west to secure the border, but villages could still use the protection experienced Templars can provide."

Hegarty studied the king closely. "What about the mages?"

Alistair looked to Petra, who shrugged. "I will begin discussions with the First Enchanter as soon as possible. In the meantime, if Lady Cousland approves, the Templars may use the army's training camps to the southwest, as they are empty at the moment."

Elinora had a moment of wondering what her mother had to do about this until she realized that Alistair was talking about her. "Seems sensible."

Hegarty looked between the two of them. "So, we're not to be hung for treason?"

"No," Alistair smiled, "at least not until you do something treasonous. If that's all, you may go and get your men settled."

Hegarty stood, still looking a bit shocked. He bowed to Alistair, and then turned to leave, giving Elinora a slight bow on his way out.

Once the door was shut behind him, Petra let out a breath. "Well, if we aren't murdered in our beds by overzealous Templars, then I would say you are making progress, your majesty."

* * *

At dawn, Elinora and Alistair made their way down to the courtyard, baby Duncen bundled in a sling at Elinora's breast, Cailin trailing behind them. Four Wardens each were headed to Antvia, Nevarra, and Tevinter. Twenty were returning to Weisshaupt, though some were planning to transfer to other outposts throughout Thedas. She handed off the sealed missives to each party.

Ferelden was keeping some of the men Rainer had brought for the Anderfels. Sten and Barth were both staying at Elinora's side at Highever, unofficially becoming her and Duncen's bodyguards. Orzammar was getting six more elder Wardens, those who were starting to hear the whisper of the Calling. The rest were going to Amaranthine.

A half-dozen Templars and two Orlseian Wardens were set for Val Royeaux, but were going by sea from Jader to Cumberland and then on to Orlais. It was risky to go directly from a Ferelden port, but a slight detour should get them there without questions. Templars and Wardens carried messages from both Elinora and Alistair. Elinora's was the same as for the other Warden Commanders, but Alistair's messages had kept him up half the night.

Chantry raised, Templar trained, and now blasphemer; destroyer of all that was sacred in Ferelden. Alistair knew that he had made the right choices, for him and for Ferelden, but it still weighted heavily on him. First there was the interrupted wedding, which was personal, but it had been followed by more strident demands from Grand Cleric Aida. Demands for tithes to be sent to the Great Cathedral had grown throughout Ferelden; he'd gotten several earfuls from various arls and banns as they had gone on progress. Upon Alistair's return to Denerim, Aida had regularly appeared for audiences. She wanted a tighter rein on the mages, and gone so far as to demand that command of the Grey Wardens be transferred to the Chantry.

Alistair had sent pleas to the Divine to bring her cleric to heel, but he had not received any response. In the end, he had to do something. The last straw had not been Aida's order to arrest Elinora, but the stoning of a woman in West Hill, accused of witchcraft on the mere word of one jilted lover. That was when Leliana became his Chantry spy and he had started making plans. Elinora's attempted arrest was the catalyst Alistair had needed to act.

The king made good use of the scattering Templars as well. They took messages to the Chantry leadership throughout Ferelden. He wanted a council of revered mothers, or their chosen representatives, to create Chantry law for Ferelden, one that severed ties with the Divine. Any priests who were dissatisfied with the new order were free to go to Orlais, or anywhere else in Thedas, but sedition against the Ferelden Chantry or crown would be considered treason.

It pained Alistair to be so harsh, but he didn't have a choice.

Every once in a while, when Alistair was trying to work out how to put the Chantry to rights, he heard Anora's last words in his mind: "Beware the Empress, she has plans." He deeply hoped those plans were now destroyed.

As he and Elinora bid farewell to the departing Grey Wardens and Templars, Alistair sent a small prayer that the Maker would turn a favorable eye to his efforts, and that no one would get hurt.


	40. Chapter 39 Brother's Arms

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 39**

**Brother's Arms**

9:36 Dragon, Spring 3, 19th day

"I… I can't believe he did that." Aldo fell into the comfy chair by Elinora's fire. He wiped a hand down his face and stared into the cold hearth.

Maphisa rolled her eyes as she leaned against the wall beside the room. Arms crossed and eyes on the door, she was quite the bodyguard. Elinora was looking forward to the elf and Sten getting to know each other.

"And you have no idea where Rainer went?" Burion was pacing around the room, straightening things. He liked order and Elinora's room was anything but. Babies tended to throw things into chaos, even before they could actually throw things.

"None." Elinora shook her head and leaned back against her pillows. Petra was still insisting that she stay in bed. It was getting a little ridiculous.

Aldo drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Knowing him, he's going to try and track down Morrigan and her child. He'll try to fix his mistake."

"Or he's going to join them," Elinora muttered. Everyone stared at her, even Alcina stopped playing with Duncen long enough for an explanation. Elinora cleared her throat. "Barth told me that Morrigan and Rainer had become lovers. She could have quite a hold over him by now."

Burion and Aldo gaped at her like she had told them that Rainer had grown wings. Maphisa and Alcina exchanged puzzled looks, though the elf's had a touch of 'I told you so' so it. Elinora just rubbed her eyes and tried not to think about it.

The speculative silence stretched until Alcina's patented mischievous grin appeared. "We really should have stuck around. Looks like we missed all the good stuff."

Elinora witty retort was interrupted by a light knock on the door. Twyla poked her head into the room. "Dinner is just about ready, and Petra has given her blessing for you to join us tonight."

"Thank the Maker," Elinora sighed and slid out of bed. "One little fainting spell and I'm back to invalid. All of you out, so I can get dressed properly."

The Wardens filed out, Aldo and Burion lost in thought and Maphisa rolling her eyes yet again as Alcina made some more cooing noises and put Duncen back into his cradle.

Twyla helped Elinora dress, still in loose gowns with unbinding bodices. Elinora scowled in the mirror. "When do I get to wear something not ridiculously frumpy?"

Twyla responded by lightly poking Elinora in the belly. Elinora flinched. "When that doesn't hurt, my lady."

"Right," Elinora muttered, staring into the mirror at a woman she barely knew.

* * *

"You left Orbert in charge of Amaranthine?" Elinora passed the bowl of potatoes down the long table where generations of Couslands had eaten meals together. Tonight it was crowded with Wardens and friends, Alistair at its head, Cailin happily situated between Maphisa and Alcina. It seemed right, even if was a bit strange.

Burion swallowed his bite of venison before answering. "He's good at that sort of thing. Turns out, he's some sort of prince."

"Oh yes," Aldo chimed in. "The fifth son of the king of the Anderfels. Its tradition; any son after the third goes to the Grey Wardens, for training if nothing else."

"Let me get this straight," Alistair leaned in, emphasizing his point with his fork. "You left a foreign prince running a Ferelden arling?"

Burion shrugged. "I left a capable Grey Warden running a Grey Warden compound." He turned to Elinora. "He sends his regards and says he will be sending a cradle gift along as soon as it's ready. And no, I don't know what it is."

Speculation ran around the table, mostly consisting of baby's first weapon, until the crash of the doors being thrown open interrupting them.

"Where is she?"

Fergus Cousland strode into the Hall, an angry glare searching the faces at the table.

"Not again," Alistair muttered as he stood. "She's right here." He waved a hand at Elinora, who rose and returned her brother's glare.

"Not her!" Fergus boomed. "Twyla."

"You can quit thundering at the guests, I'm right here." Twyla swept into the Hall, gracefully setting aside the bottle of wine she had just brought up from the cellar. She met his eyes and squared her shoulders, elegant arms sweeping towards the corridor and his study. "Shall we go…"

"What's the meaning of this?" Fergus produced a piece of parchment, clutched in his fist.

Twyla's chin raised and her voice was calm as she answered. "I think its pretty clear."

"How long have you known?" Fergus demanded, still waving the battered piece of parchment at her.

"What's the date on the letter?" she replied calmly.

He looked at it. "The ninth."

"Since about then."

Elinora slammed her tankard on the table and stood. "That's enough! Will one of you please let the rest of us in on the crisis?"

Fergus crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on the floor. "She's pregnant, and has kindly offered to go back to Soldier's Peak and not trouble me again."

Twyla's mouth twitched. "I thought it might be for the best."

"I'll be damned," Fergus growled, rounding on Alistair. "Your majesty, is there a bloody priest left in Highever? Or have you run them all off?"

Twyla's jaw dropped as Alistair looked for an answer. Sybila raised a cautious if amused hand from further down the table. "Revered Mother Eartha is still in the village. She's officially retired, but still conducts ceremonies when needed."

Fergus gave a curt nod. "Good." He strode across the room to Twyla, pulled her body to his, and kissed her deep and hard. She fought him for a moment before they melted together as the kiss went on and on.

Alistair looked to Elinora. "Did you know?"

She shook her head and glanced over to Petra, who nodded with a smug smile.

"Of course," Alistair muttered with a grin. He turned his attention to Fergus and Twyla, still wrapped up in each other. With a very pronounced throat clearing, he said, "Teryn Cousland, my apologizes for interrupting, but, um, what have you done with the army?"

Fergus broke the kiss, but not his hold on Twyla. "There's a contingent of one hundred a few hours behind me. I, er, got a bit impatient," he looked to Twyla with a soft smile. The rest is still at the border and in excellent hands." Fergus remembered himself and whom he was talking to. His posture straightened as he loosened his hold on his betrothed. "I have a full report for his majesty at his convenience."

"Anything dire?"

"Not at all."

"Then it will wait until first thing in the morning." Alistair stood, offering Fergus his traditional place at the head of the Cousland table. "Sit, eat, if Barth has left any dinner behind."

The big Warden snorted. "I'm sure there's a hoof or two left."

"And if you'll excuse me, I believe its someone's bed time." Alistair gave Cailin a pointed look that he scowled at, but graciously rose from the table. He tugged Elinora's sleeve with a small pleading look.

Elinora left her seat and took Cailin's hand. She paused a moment to give Fergus a kiss and whisper, which made him chuckle, then allowed herself to be lead out by her love and eldest son.

They were down the corridor when Fergus realized she wasn't pregnant anymore.

* * *

Half an hour later, Fergus found his sister in her room, Duncen happily nursing at her breast. He leaned against her door and watched the very picture of maternal love. "Now's there's some I never thought I would live to see."

"Didn't think anyone would have me?" she said with a wry grin.

"Nah, just imagined a string of jilted lovers across the countryside. No settling down into motherhood for you."

Elinora snorted a laugh. "I doubt there's going to be much settling down of any kind, mother or no." Duncen finished with a snuffle and Elinora got herself decent. "Come here and met your nephew."

Fergus walked across the room slowly. Carefully, he took Duncen out of Elinora's hands. "So you're what all the fuss is about, eh?" Fergus paced a bit, bouncing Duncen as he did. "You're cuter than your mum was."

Elinora stuck her tongue out at him.

"So, what happened?"

She told the story as best she could, trying to gloss over the parts that would worry her occasionally overprotective brother. What was done was done and she didn't need chiding from one of the few people who wouldn't hesitate to do so. When it was done, she had questions of her own. "When did you and Twyla…?"

Fergus sighed and tucked Duncen into his cradle. "Mid-winter. It wasn't supposed to be…" His voice trailed off.

"I understand, but now?"

He grimaced and turned to the window. "I have no intention of leaving bastard babies lying around. Besides, I missed…"

His thought was cut off by his sister's sob. Fergus turned as Elinora face fell into her hands. He rushed to her and knelt by her chair. "I am such an ass, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Of course you didn't," she snapped. "Just like you didn't mean anything by that rot when you came in here. Fergus, why did I ever think I could do this? Should do this?"

Duncen started to wail with his mother. She swore and went to collect him from the cradle. Their sobs faded together, her soothing words easing both of them.

Fergus smiled as he stood. "Look at that. You're a natural. Could or should doesn't matter. You are." He gently embraced his little sister and kissed her forehead. "And I'm proud of you." With a light squeeze to her shoulder, he stepped back. "But I am off to bed. Have to report to His Majesty tomorrow, and then go pick a fight with the bastard who knocked my baby sister up and hasn't married her yet."

Elinora scowled. "Then get hung for treason by lunch. What an excellent day you've planned."

"I try." With a wink, Fergus left her and Duncen for the evening.

Elinora looked down at her infant son and bumped her nose to his. "We're going to have lots of bad influences to keep from you."


	41. Chapter 40 Let Union Be

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 40**

**Let Union Be**

9:36 Dragon, Spring 3, 21st day

The Chantry Hall of Highever Castle buzzed with anticipation. Servants, prominent members of the community, Grey Wardens and a few of Fergus's soldiers filled the room, but not to capacity. With only a few days notice, all the guests were local, but enthusiastic.

Elinora and Alistair occupied the front pew, Elinora holding Duncen, and Alistair keeping a close eye on Fergus. He was enjoying playing the traditional brother role, which including tackling the groom if he made a break for it. Cailin was stationed next to his chosen mother, as always. Petra was right behind them.

Maddox Dryden stood on the opposite side of the aisle, watching his soon-to-be brother-in-law closely. He had known before Fergus came back to Highever, and would stand quietly and menacingly by whatever his sister decided. Maddox was tall, dark and quiet until pushed too far. A runaway groom would be too far.

Fergus stood at attention before the altar, like a soldier waiting for orders. The only thing that gave away any nervousness was the occasional chew of his lower lip. Otherwise he seemed ready and eager.

Revered Mother Eartha, bent and weathered, knelt before the altar, Sybila behind her. The old woman rose to her feet with the young priest's help, turned, and awaited the bride.

Twyla entered as the guests got to their feet. She was resplendent simplicity in an elegant white gown and flowers in her hair, but her broad smile made her truly beautiful. She walked alone down the aisle, no need for an escort. Fergus's own smile grew as she drew closer to the altar, even if there was a little sadness to it.

Elinora knew what that sad tinge was. She had stood here ten years ago when Fergus had married Orianna. They had been so young and deliriously happy. It had been a big wedding, everything of the finest, and guests from all over. Elinora had served as an attendant to her sister-in-law, wearing the silliest dress that was the height of fashion. It had been very uncomfortable and she had to stand through the whole thing, the full two-hour ceremony. Today, Fergus and Twyla had selected the short version, and the guests were most grateful.

Even with the abbreviated ritual, Elinora started to fade about halfway through. Duncen hadn't let her sleep more than three hours together since his arrival, as was normal for newborns. Petra was encouraging her to let the servants take care of him sometimes, but Elinora didn't trust anyone but herself or Alistair with him. It left her exhausted. She nestled her head on Alistair's shoulder and tried to stay awake. Her thoughts drifted as Alistair's arm came around her shoulders, enveloping her in a warm halo of devotion.

Oddly, in the middle of all this joy, a gloom settled over her like a storm cloud.

Five years. Five years since she had killed the Archdemon. So much had happened since. Alistair was king and better one than expected. He had married and burned one wife and brought three children into the world. Elinora had traveled to the ends of the earth, gained the skills and title of Commander of the Grey, then returned home to take her command. She built her garrison and set off to build her force, and concurrently retuned to his side and bore the child they had dreamed of, but rarely spoken about. Too much had tried to come between them; lovers, gods and monsters.

But here they were.

Elinora looked at Alistair as Mother Eartha closed the ceremony, Twyla and Fergus sealing their union with an immodest kiss. Alistair's soft brown eyes met hers and a wicked grin spread across his royal face. He scooped Duncen from her arms and passed him to a mildly surprised Petra. Duncen issued a small squawk, which caught the attention of the bride and groom, who exchanged a covert glance.

Elinora started, "You're not thinking…"

"Oh, I most defiantly am." Alistair looked to Fergus, who looked to Twyla, who nodded.

Mutters rose from the assembled, including a yell of "Do it!" from somewhere in the back. Fergus and Twyla stepped aside as Aldo and Burion frog marched king and commander to the altar, not that they fought it.

Mother Eartha regarded the new couple before her and arched a wizened eyebrow. "About time." She cleared her throat and raised her hand to the heavens. "Andraste reached her hand to the Maker, and said 'I am your true bride, as you are my true husband. Our union cannot be unmade.' And so are the bonds between husband and wife…"

Elinora lost track of what the ancient priest was saying, too busy drowning in Alistair's adoring eyes. It was the same look he gave her every day, full of love and desire. The smile that swallowed his face glowed with affection and confidence. His hand held hers, warm and protective. Before she knew it, the ceremony was done and his lips pressed to hers, claiming her at last.

It was prefect.

* * *

"Sidonia always was too big for her breeches." Mother Eartha grunted a laugh and took another healthy swig of her wine. "One very well timed vision back in 95 Glory and this little slip of a girl becomes the next Divine."

The newlyweds, both sets, were enjoying a fine, if not extravagant, wedding feast. They mingled among their guests, though Alistair and Elinora sat down with their offciant in particular. And not to discuss marriage.

Alistair sipped his ale and raised an eyebrow at the old priest. "Did you know her?"

"Oh yes. Twenty-something and already a priest in one of the biggest and richest Chantries in Orlias, and that was before the vision. Once that happened it was nothing but 'Oh Sidonia this!' and "Oh Sidonia that!' As if she had any great insight."

"But she did," Elinora murmured. "She knew the High Dragon was a sign, of a Blight no less. And her vision wasn't wrong. Ashling came with the Grey Wardens as her army, we stood against her, but still, Ferelden has broken with the Great Cathedral." She squeezed Alistair's hand, knowing how much it had hurt him.

"Hmph. Visions and insight are two different things, girl. She sees what she wants to see, and she's seen herself to a nice fat estate of her own, a gift from the Empress for her devotion. If you ask me, she's the one behind this nonsense."

"Why do say that?" Alistair asked with forced casualness.

"Her father lost Ferelden. Meghern was squatting on the throne, but it was seen as the Emperor's loss, one that he railed about."

Alistair cocked his head to one side. "How do you know this?"

Eartha snorted again. "I was there, boy. Well, not in the room, mind you, but I was training in Val Royueax. Once Maric took Ferelden's throne, the Emperor shipped us out in hurry."

Elinora's brows knit. "How closely have the Chantries of Ferelden worked with the Divine since then?"

"Hardly at all, but I take it that changed with the young Grand Cleric you dislike so much?"

Alistair nodded. "She came from the Great Cathedral, chosen of Sidonia herself."

"Then you are well rid of her. Send her back to the Great Cathedral and let the Divine figure out what to do with her. In the meantime, Ferelden's priests will keep singing the Chant of Light, just like we always have, no matter how dark it got."

Elinora gave her husband a sidelong glance and sly smile. "Huzzah for that Ferelden independent streak."

Alistair returned his wife's grin. "Let's hope it holds through an Exalted March."

Sybila ambled away from Aldo to stand behind Mother Eartha's comfortable chair. "Exalted March? She wouldn't dare."

Alistair looked up at the young woman. "And why not?"

Sybila looked between Elinora, her king and the old lady greedily sipping her wine. "Uh, Haven."

Elinora and Alistair got the idea at the same time. They said nothing; Haven was still something of a secret and it was more secure that way. But they both came to the same realization: Andraste's Ashes could be the bargaining chip they needed to keep the Divine off their doorstep.

Or the perfect place for a first strike.

* * *

Alistair kicked open the door to Elinora's room and delicately carried a giggling wife and son inside.

"Ah, the honeymoon suite," he announced proudly, "only vaguely reminiscent of the room we woke up in this morning."

"Oh, you mean my room since childhood?" Elinora quipped.

Alistair grinned as he set her on her feet next to her rocking chair. "At least its not a tent or a corner in a cave somewhere. I took you to so many exotic locations during our courtship."

"You forget, my husband," Elinora pointed out as she settled in to feed Duncen, "that I was the leader of our little outfit. The responsibility was solely mine. A certain Grey Warden turned down his chance to lead us; something about waking up without any pants."

"Ah, my wife remembers the damnedest things." Alistair puttered about the room, removing bits of armor and digging up a burp cloth. "You sure you're up for a proper wedding night? Its not too soon?"

Petra entered with only a cursory knock as Alistair asked his question. "It would be if not for the skills of a most gifted healer."

Elinora snorted a laugh. "And modest too. Besides, when have we ever done anything properly?"

"Isn't that the truth," Alistair muttered.

Another knock at the door admitted Sten and a blushing Barth. "Sorry Commander, Petra said to come fetch the cradle."

Elinora's mouth twitched uncomfortably. "Right."

Petra pinned her with that authoritative glare she was so good at. "None of that. You agreed. Duncen stays with me tonight. It isn't much of a wedding present, but I can least give you two a night to yourselves."

"But…"

Petra laid a reassuring arm on Elinora's shoulder. "I'm three doors down."

Duncen finished his midnight snack with his usual burble. Alistair took him for a snuggle and burp before passing him off to Petra. "Come on boys," the mage said to the Wardens, "let's give the happy couple some peace."

Sten and Barth picked up Duncen's cradle, Sten muttering about being a warrior not a servant. Barth called out his congratulations as they left the room. With a warm smile, Petra pulled the doors closed behind her, leaving Alistair and Elinora alone.

"Alone at last," Alistair whispered, pulling his wife from her chair and into his strong arms. His soft eyes searched her luminous blue-green depths. "I love you, Elinora, my wife."

"I love you, Alistair, my husband."

His kiss started slow, a velvet caress, but it aroused a hunger that had gone unsatisfied for months. His mouth still locked on hers, Alistair lifted Elinora and carried her to the bed. She broke away as she landed, running a loving hand down his cheek, and then tugged at his belt.

Alistair straightened with a sensual smile. "My queen commands, and I obey." He pulled off the tunic he wore under his armor, ropey muscles displayed in the candlelight.

Elinora started wriggling out of her own dress. "I wonder if the Landsmeet will have to grant me that title before I've re-taken up my Warden duties." She cast aside her dress.

Alistair dropped a boot and stared at her, but his gaze wasn't taking in her lack of clothing this time. "Oh. Right. That." He looked uncomfortable. "Um, when were you planning on that?"

She crossed her arms over her swelled breasts. "Burion's ready to hand it over right now. He asked me about it yesterday."

"What did you tell him?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "Not quite yet." She cocked her head, studying him. "Alistair, you know I'm going to continue to be Ferelden's Commander of the Grey, right?"

A small frown tugged the corners of his mouth. "Um, yes, I guess."

Elinora's eyebrows shot up. "You guess?"

"Well… I," Alistair realized he had stepped wrong, but had nowhere to go but forward. "I suppose I was hoping that you would give it all up and just… be my queen."

A flare of anger burned sudden and hot, but died out just as quickly. His hope wasn't about her abilities; it was about being together, building a family. Her face softened, the suspicion falling away. "I don't think either of us can just be anything." Her hands found his belt and drew him close. "I will be queen." She kissed his left cheek. "I will be commander." She kissed the right. "I will be wife." She kissed his throat, making him moan just a little. "And I will be mother to all our children, no matter who birthed them." She laid a final kiss on his chest, just above his heart.

Calloused fingers lifted her chin. "You will be you. Which is all I could ever want."

A long, sensual kiss led to a passionate night of wedded bliss, including the royal couple being able to sleep long past sunrise.

Perfect.


	42. Chapter 41 The Mission

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 41**

**The Mission**

Expert from a letter from King Alistair Therin to Brother Genitivi

_…if you would do us the honor of wintering in Denerim to discuss the status of Haven. We would like to know your feelings on how to continue with the site, as well as those of the Templars you trust with its security. See that the site is well protected, but we wish to discuss the long-term for defense, study and visitation…_

9:36 Dragon, Fall 3, 1st day

"Come on Duncen, you liked peas yesterday!" Elinora sighed as her son spit out a slimy torrent of green and fussed about the rudeness of being offered such unappetizing goo.

Maricen stuck out his three-year old tongue and stated. "I don't like peas either."

"Yuck!" declared Aurora, with all her two-year old authority. Wynn wrinkled her very cute nose.

Cailin smiled and distracted Maricen with a toy horse. "I think you're surrounded, Mother."

Elinora scowled and resumed trying to feed her youngest.

"You know where Darkspawn come from?" asked a new voice from the doorway. "They're children who don't eat their vegetables." Petra smiled warmly at the mighty Commander of the Grey, completely routed by a handful of children. It was a thing of beauty. "You know, you do have servants to handle these sorts of things."

Elinora wiped off her green hands and smiled at Petra. "I know, I just want to spend as much time with them as I can. Never know when it might run out."

Petra nodded solemnly as she lifted up Wynn, who had toddled over to see her. "Too true."

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be in Highever, helping my sister-in-law bring another Cousland into the world?"

"That's why I came, to say good-bye." The mage cuddled her favorite royal child and set her back on her unsteady feet.

A sad smile graced Elinora's face. "I can't think of anyone I would like to have bringing my niece or nephew into the world, but I'm going to miss you. Don't know what I would have done without you."

Petra raised a pointed eyebrow. "Died, but that's neither here nor there." She went around to each of the children and kissed each forehead. Cailin gave her a fierce hug. "I'll be back in the Spring, if Twyla lets me out of her sight and Irving doesn't call me back to the Tower." She grimaced at the last thought.

Elinora attempted to de-pea Duncen's face. "I thought he was easing his position? The force field went down months ago."

"His paranoia hasn't eased in the slightest and he has a great many positions to consider." Petra sighed. "The Tower is changing, and it will be Irving's legacy. He wants to get it right. Enough politics, I have a baby to deliver."

Elinora and Cailin left the little ones with a nursemaid and walked Petra down to the stables where her horse and escort were waiting. They rode out with a wave and shouts of love for the mage and those at Highever.

Mother and son dawdled in the stables, Cailin rambling on about horses and his sixth birthday coming up. Elinora neatly evaded his fishing, until a trembling along the Warden bond drew her to the courtyard, Cailin at her heels.

Alcina and Maphisa bolted into the yard, and slid to halt in front of Elinora. Alcina panted, "Wardens… Fort Drakon. Lots of 'em."

Maphisa, much less winded than her partner, took up the report. "Foreign Commanders, all demanding to see you and Duncen."

Elinora's blood turned to ice. "Why are they at Fort Drakon?"

Maphisa shrugged. "Something about seeing where the Archdemon fell. They want to see his majesty too."

"I bet they do," Elinora muttered. She turned to the stable hands that had come to see what the news was. "Saddle up three horses," she called to them. "Someone find Wardens Sten and Barth and tell them we're going to the palace!"

Alcina looked confused. "But the commanders are at the fortress."

Elinora turned to the girl with a smug smile. "And if they want to meet with me, they'll go to the palace. I need you two to deliver that message. And take your time. I want to be there ahead of them."

Maphisa returned Elinora's smile and saluted. Alcina wasn't so agreeable, but she saluted as well. The girls turned and walked away from Tranquility House, as Elinora darted in. "I need armor, weapons!"

In the six months since Duncen's birth, she had managed to lose a good amount of the baby weight and was on the road to being back in fighting form. Her old armor still didn't fit, but Master Wade had been ecstatic to create a new set for her, modeled on what she had worn to Alistair's coronation. Technically, it was mostly dragonscale leather, but he had emphasized points of form and function with silverite. Rampant Grey Warden griffons rode her shining poltroons and greaves, and Wade had insisted on blue leggings underneath sliverite tipped and studded leather skirting. Most importantly, the design did include a way to easily open the breastplate and feed Duncen. Alistair had nearly fallen over with laughter at that.

"Are you sure you don't want to take the carriage, my lady?" Dedra asked as she handed Elinora Duncen's sling.

"Positive. Got to be the commander this afternoon." Elinora adjusted her weapon harness and draped the sling around her torso. Wade was a genius. No one else could have designed armor with a baby and breastfeeding to consider.

Dedra still looked uncomfortable. "I could bring Prince Duncen along later, in the carriage."

Elinora shot her maid a look that ended that line of suggestion. Of all her people, Dedra was the most overprotective, but obeyed and fetched Duncen from the nursery. She returned with a baby in hand and Cailin at her heels.

"May I go too?" he asked plaintively.

Maricen's head popped in the room. "Me too?"

Elinora looked at the boys as she tucked Duncen into his sling. Cailin did not like her to be out of his sight for very long, and seemed to prefer the palace to Tranquility House in general. Maricen didn't like to be left out. "Fine, but you're riding with the Wardens. You've got five minutes to get into good clothing."

Cailin pouted a bit, he'd wanted to ride on his own, but nodded and ran back to the nursery to change. Dedra scooped up Maricen and followed him with a smile.

Taking the winged Grey Warden helmet from its shelf, Elinora did a quick check. She was armed with her old dagger and a traditional Warden Longsword, neatly strapped to her back. Her armor fit properly and did, in fact, look magnificent. And Duncen was content in his sling, chewing the loose strap from her harness. She put on her helmet. Wade had done a masterful job to make it grand and functional, but Elinora still thought it looked a bit silly.

"Ready, mother!" Cailin chirped happily from the doorway. Dedra had put both boys in blue vests over clean shirts. Cailin had armed himself with arrows and the Dalish bow he's received during their progress. Maricen wore a wooden toy sword on his back like it was real.

"Dedra, as soon as you can, please bring the girls along, and anything else I've forgotten. In the carriage, of course. All right, my princes," she smiled down at her royal escort, "let's go met the commanders."

* * *

They rode full gallop most of the way to the city. Cailin rode with Sten and took point. Elinora and Duncen were at center with Barth and Maricen bringing up the rear. Once through the city gates, Sten and Barth dismounted and led their horses on either side of Elinora, creating a buffer. Elinora herself continued to ride, making her the tallest of their party, until Maricen decided to ride on Barth's shoulders. Cailin remained on Sten's horse and kept a wary eye and smiling face on the crowd.

And there was a crowd. Despite the sudden nature of Elinora's arrival, people started to gather as word had gotten around. She heard calls of 'hero' and 'my lady' and even a few of 'queen' as they winded toward the palace. The boys behaved like proper princes, acknowledging their people with nods and waves as they plowed through them. Someone handed Cailin a bunch of flowers, which he passed on to his mother. Duncen giggled as they rode on to the palace.

Alistair met his wife and sons in the Great Hall with hugs and kisses. "I heard we have company coming, my beloved wife." He jerked his head towards Alcina and Maphisa, loitering around the dais.

"Important company, my dearest husband." Five months they'd been married and still hadn't gotten tried of finally being able to call each other 'wife' and 'husband'. Sten and Maphisa were both rolling their eyes.

"How long do you think we have?" Alistair dropped off most the last word and looked at Elinora. They sensed it at the same time. Duncen hiccupped.

They had seconds.

Alistair pulled Elinora and the boys to the dais. Sten and Barth stayed on the floor level at either side. Alcina went to stand by Barth, Maphisa by Sten, creating Warden bookends to the royal family. Elinora placed herself at the top of the dais, centered and ready. Her husband took position at her right shoulder, watching her back, as always. Cailin stood to her left, wearing his best warrior expression. Maricen tried to model his elder brother. Elinora tried not to laugh. Her boys were adorable; all four of them.

The massive oak doors opened.

An upper servant, Declan, Elinora thought his name was, stepped forward to announce the new arrivals.

"Your majesties, Commander of the Grey Izidor of Nevarra." The first man who stepped forward wore armor that gleamed in the sunlight pouring through the high windows, reflecting off of poltroons that more than suggested wings. The double-headed griffon enameled on his breastplate was more detailed than any Elinora seen, and she had a feeling the shield on his back bore the same crest. It suited the man with the fussy mustache that dripped off his face and the long, intricately braided, dark hair that went to his mid-back. The look he gave her was nothing but evaluating.

"Commander of the Grey Rabio of Antiva." A slight man in dragonscale leathers stepped forward and gave Elinora a respectful nod. It didn't match his wicked smile and a green-eyed gaze that was just a hair away from lustful. His hair was an unremarkable brown that framed an unremarkable face, one that was easily lost in a crowd. She had a feeling the short sword and dagger on his back were not the only blades on his person.

"Commander of the Grey Bresal of the Free Marches." A grizzled warrior in much abused armor hardly acknowledged the royal family on the dais. He was evaluating the room for defense. Satisfied, he took up a position against a wall where he could watch the door and the proceedings, stroking a short, dark beard. Elinora hoped the great axe on his back wouldn't nick the wood paneling.

"Commander of the Grey Bertrand of Orlais." Elinora recognized the next commander from Guerr Fort. He'd been promoted since her time in Orlais. His russet hair was greyer and there were new lines around his brown eyes. Like Izidor, his armor bore the griffon, but it was only etched in to the dragonbone. Bertrand had always struck Elinora as a practical man for an Orlesian.

"Sub-Commander Zelig of the Anderfels." Wrapped in plain blue mage robes, he leaned on his staff. Completely grey hair and tired eyes marked him as the oldest Grey Warden Elinora had ever met. He stared at her steadily, like she was something he had wanted to see for a long time, in order to study.

"Sub-Commander Tantus of the Tevinter Imperium" The second mage of the group wore ornate robes and a haughty expression like he was royalty. He clearly distained the room he stood in and didn't think much of the family in front of him.

Alistair whistled lowly as another twenty wardens filed into the Great Hall. Once the doorway stopped spilling armed men, he cleared his throat and said, "Commanders, welcome to Ferelden. My wife and Grey Warden, Elinora." His tone was cordial, as if this was a party and he was introducing one friend to another. "Cailin, my nephew," Cailin issued a slight nod and continued to watch the Wardens carefully. "Maricen, my eldest son," Maricen did his best imitation of Cailin's nod. "And of course, Duncen, our newest arrival." Duncen chewed on his strap and watched the Wardens. "What can I do for you?"

The collected commanders looked slightly baffled or amused at Alistair's introductions. Izidor stepped further forward with a salute and a polite smile. "A pleasure, but, as I'm sure your majesty is quite aware of, we are not here to see you. There are matters we wish to discuss with Warden El, the one time Commander of the Grey for Ferelden."

"I take it this will not be a short conversation?" Elinora sighed and took off her helmet, handing it to Cailin. She looked to Alistair, "The little dining hall then?" He nodded to her and then to Declan, who went off to prepare the room.

Elinora knelt in front Maricen. "Could you be a big help and go and make sure the nursery is ready for your sisters when they get here?" He scowled a little, but obeyed, running off with a nursemaid who was waiting at one of the side doors. She gave Elinora an approving smile.

With a graceful sweep of her hand, Elinora said, "Gentlemen, if you'll follow me."

* * *

The little dining hall was almost the same as it was for Elinora's first meal after slaying the Archdemon. Some of the décor had changed, but it was still just as intimate when compared to the Great Hall. Elinora sat at the head of the table, while Alistair leaned against the wall. Cailin placed himself at his mother's right shoulder, still holding her helmet. Sten and Alcina stood guard outside in the corridor, while Barth and Maphisa stationed themselves at the door. The commanders found seats around the table, Izidor and the mages with assistants standing behind them.

Declan brought in refreshments, including several pitches of wine and ale. After a quiet word with Alistair, he handed Cailin a goblet and jerked his head toward Elinora. The boy delivered it with a, "For you, mother."

Bertrand began. "We have a great many questions, about the slaying of the Archdemon and the events of the late spring. You'll forgive us for being blunt about them." He cut his eyes to Cailin.

Alistair put a fatherly hand on Cailin's shoulder. "Why don't you go find the swordmaster and get him to run you through the forms. You have a lot of Wardens to show off to." Alistair winked. Cailin frowned, but handed Alistair his mother's helmet, kissed her on the cheek and left the room with a hard glare for the commanders.

Izidor chuckled. "What did we do to offend the little princeling?"

Elinora gave him a flat stare. "The last time a bunch of unfamiliar Wardens showed up, they kidnapped me." She took a sip of very watered wine and grimaced.

Bertrand and Rabio exchanged a worried squint. "Bad wine?" Izidor queried as he pulled a pitcher to him.

Elinora sighed. "Wouldn't know. Mine is mostly water. Bloody Petra. Anyway, you were asking?"

"First," Bertrand cut in on Izidor and gave the door a confused look. "Mother? I don't remember you mentioning children at Guerr Fort."

"My only child by birth is Duncen here," she bouncing the dozing baby just a little. "Cailin adopted me."

The Orlesian commander chuckled. "And the others?"

She shrugged. "Alistair's by his first wife, Anora. Time will tell what I am to them."

"Speaking of children," Tantus broke in. "We are here to discuss Ashling. Let us start at the beginning."

For an hour they rehashed the events surrounding the fall of the Archdemon and Ashling's conception. The questions flowed into Elinora's journey from Ferelden to her time at Weisshaupt, including the affair with Rainer. Those were thankfully brief, as they were more interested in what she did upon return to Ferelden as a Commander of the Grey. She detailed her plans, both those that were accomplished and those for the future. A great many expressions were exchanged.

"An impressive body of work, practical and hopeful," said Rabio. "And yet, you gave up your command. Why?

"Pregnancy hit me very hard, Commander Rabio. My healer said that my symptoms were normal, but extreme. By my second month I couldn't walk straight when I could walk at all, and I was unreasonable to say the least." She caught their eyes sweeping up to Alistair, who was probably confirming just how unreasonable she had been. She ignored him, saving that punch in the arm for later. "I decided it would be prudent to transfer command to someone more functional. Commander Burion has done a fine job, though has asked me regularly since Duncen was born when I was going to take over."

A new look passed between the commanders, one filled Elinora with dread. They were going to forbid her to return to the Wardens, she knew it. She fought to keep her expression neutral.

As if awakened by his mother's unhappiness, Duncen started to cry. Elinora turned her attention to his hungry howl and loosened the sling. With the deft juggling only mothers can do, she held the baby and opened her breastplate. The top layer of shaped dragonscale detached at her sternum and swung toward her shoulder, while the linen lining attached at her collarbone and folded down to reveal bare breast, which was quickly replaced by a hungry baby. Once Duncen was happily sucking away, she looked back up to the commanders and was very satisfied with their expressions. Izidor, Tantus and Bertrand were open-mouthed with shock and a little scandal. Rabio clearly approved and Zelig was examining her like a specimen again. Only Bresal scowled.

With a slightly smug smile, Elinora said, "My apologizes, gentlemen. A mother's duty is never done."

Bresal's scowl folded as he laughed, a deep guffaw. "She might do after all."

Izidor shot him a quelling glare, then turned to Elinora. "If we may continue?" At her nod, he asked, "Given that Morrigan and Ashling escaped, what do you plan to do?"

"Scouts have already been sent all over Ferelden. So far they have found nothing, though I suspect Morrigan has gone south, into the Korcari Wilds."

Rabio narrowed his eyes at her. "Why there?"

"Morrigan was raised there; she knows the territory. And as it mostly uncharted wilderness, it's a good place to hide. Also, the scouts we sent that way have not reported back."

Rabio nodded. "Sound reasoning, but not proof."

She frowned. "Not at all. In the meantime, we continue to search and I have the Circle of Magi studying ways to contain an Old God."

"Contain?" asked Zelig. "Why not just kill?"

"Far easier said than done, and I fear simply slaying the girl won't work; the soul would still transfer and I fear it might have learned something about being human. Ashling was able to possess the Wardens and seemed to believe that Duncen could contain another like her. My gut says the best course would be to find a way to truly seal her away, cut the Calling off, for us and Darkspawn."

Tantus leaned forward. "How?"

"I have no idea, which is why I have the Circle looking into it. In fact, if you care to be of use in this endeavor, I would greatly appreciate it. Somewhere there has to be something." Duncen burbled as he finished his snack and Alistair stepped up, throwing a towel over his shoulder. He collected Duncen and started to rub and pat his little back. Elinora put herself back together, then took a sip of her wine.

"And Rainer?" Bresal growled.

Elinora shook her head, rolling the goblet in her hands. "His trail dead-ended at the main road when it got confused with all the other tracks. He knew what he was doing, and I don't think he wants to be found. His armor and signet ring are in the armory here."

"Good place for it." Bresal muttered.

"It wouldn't do for them to get stolen." Elinora commented and took another sip from her goblet.

"That's not what he means." Izidor stood, quickly followed by the other commanders in the room. "Elinora, by consensus of the Commanders of the Grey, we name you the First Warden. We are yours to command."

Elinora dropped her goblet.


	43. Chapter 42 The Whys and Wherefores

_A/N: This chapter may be a bit premature, but there's follow-up to get to! So please forgive any typos or clunky writing. Impatience beat the quality inspector._

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 42**

**The Whys and Wherefores**

Same Day, Same Place

For a moment, Elinora's vision faded. She worked to focus, starting with her hands, clutching the edge of the table. There was still green under her fingernails from trying to feed Duncen. Duncen. Where was Duncen? She looked around her furiously, and found him still in Alistair's arms, making unhappy noises because daddy was holding him too tightly as he stared at the other men in the room. They were still standing.

Elinora blinked and swept her gaze around the high command of the Grey Wardens. "Are… are you serious?"

Izidor smiled. "Deathly serious. We've been discussing it for weeks. Once we toured certain sites in Ferelden, we were almost agreed." He shot a sidelong glance at Tantus. "And now that we've talked with you, we are absolutely positive." He looked to his companions. Rabio was smiling broadly, Bertrand looked satisfied. Zelig continued to passively study her, while Tantus read as more resigned. Bresal wore a grim half smile, though with a touch of pride.

"Why?" Elinora sputtered.

"My dear girl," Zelig began, "For more than a thousand years the Grey Wardens have stood against the Darkspawn, but we wait. We stand vigilant between Blights, biding our time until an Archdemon rises. But that's changed now. An Old God walks the earth, uncorrupted by the Darkspawn. She has chosen your son, the near impossible child of two Grey Wardens, as the next host for another Old God. She has already made one attempt, and she will likely try another."

"But that," Rabio interrupted, "is not why we choose to make you First Warden. If it were simply a matter of protecting you and the little one from her, then we would surround you with guards and lock you up in a tower. No, you," he pointed at her with a smug smile, "are going after her. You do not sit idly by, waiting for her to strike."

Elinora raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sending out trackers and doing research is hardly a major offensive."

Bertrand scoffed, "It is a sensible move at this point. There is also a slight political motivation for our choice." He glanced at Alistair with a slightly embarrassed throat clearing. "Not only does this appointment show support for the Grey Warden king of Ferelden, but also for his move against the Chantry."

Alistair's eyebrows climbed his forehead. "Really?"

"Chantries throughout Thedas have all but outlawed Grey Wardens from worship," Bertrand continued. "While religious devotion is not directly a part of being a Grey Warden, some of us are faithful and do not appreciate being treated as pariahs. The Divine has been overreaching her power quite a bit since the Blight, and it's about time someone did something about it."

Elinora looked to Bertrand. "The Chantry handles what's beyond, the Grey Wardens what's below."

A slow smile spread on Bertrand's face. "Just so."

"And then there's the important reason," Bresal growled at his fellow commanders then faced Elinora. "You're a competent leader, and the loyalty you inspire in your men is impressive. There was hardly a word against you from Weisshaupt to Amaranthine."

Tantus snorted. "Wagner doesn't count. He hates everyone."

Elinora searched to place the name and came up with a cranky shaven headed mage. "I barely knew the man."

"That never stopped him from passing judgment," Tantus replied snidely.

"Who else did you talk to? Where did you go?" Elinora asked, curiosity winning over decorum.

Tantus ticked the list off on his fingers. "At least a dozen Wardens at Weisshaupt, Wardens and nobles in Orlais…"

Izidor interrupted, "Queen Sereda speaks very highly of you."

Rabio added. "Warden Bittan nearly fell over laughing when we told him."

"Amaranthine is a solid fortress," Bresal got back to business, "with men and women who are loyal to you."

" I see." Elinora looked around the room. Not even a hint of disapproval was on anyone's face. Even Sten looked proud and Maphisa smiled with a brightness Elinora had never seen on the young woman. And Alistair, her steadfast Alistair, gave his blessing with a slight nod of his head.

She drew a deep breath. "Commanders, I accept." Elinora lifted her chin and met the eyes of each of the men. "That being said, I expect garrison readiness reports before you leave Denerim, which I hope will not be immediately. I would appreciate the opportunity to get to know my commanders and their situations."

Izidor and Bertrand drew themselves up at attention then saluted. Bresal kept a steady gaze on her that held nothing but approval while Rabio appeared to be in love. Tantus was already whispering to his assistant. Zelig continued to study her.

Duncen started to cry. Elinora moved to get up, but Alistair put a hand on her shoulder as he rocked his son. "I've got him. He needs a nap." Alistair put on his king face and looked to the men before him. "Commanders, I believe the occasion calls for a bit of a celebration. Feast preparations have already begun, and quarters are available to you and your men, if you'll speak to my steward. In the meantime, take some rest and the I will see you this evening." Alistair gave the commanders a slight bow and departed with Duncen at his breast.

Elinora watched him go, fighting the urge to run after him. Something about him seemed bruised, and she had a feeling it was his ego. She could feel the yawning chasm growing between them. Alistair's wife just might have gotten too powerful for his taste.

Bertrand cleared his throat again. "I believe I will take his majesty up on such a generous offer. A night not in a flea ridden inn or a tent would be pleasant." The others muttered their agreement. A few more minutes were spent directing them to Wade's Emporium, The Lotus, The Wonders of Thedas and a few other places where they could get their needs met.

Eventually questions were answered and Elinora could get away. "Until this evening, commanders." She left the little dining hall, her four bodyguards behind her. She headed for Alistair's study.

He wasn't there, which didn't surprise her, but it was a good place to lose her escort. "You lot are dismissed, though if you could track down Leliana and Zevran, I would appreciate it. And any other Wardens in the city. We've got a party tonight."

Maphisa protested, "What about…"

"I'm not planning on leaving the palace." Elinora fought to keep the frustration out of her voice. "I need to talk to Alistair, alone."

Maphisa gave her commander a curt nod and headed away, the others drifting after her.

Elinora continued her hunt for her husband. He wasn't in their bedchamber, nor the nursery. Duncen and Maricen were both down for naps, and the nursemaids reported that his majesty had tucked the little prince in and left without a word. Elinora made sure they were aware of the impending princesses, which they were. Maricen had followed her instructions then promptly fell asleep.

From the nursery she moved on to the portrait gallery and the Chantry Hall, both places Alistair like to think. He wasn't in either, but Bertrand was in the Chantry, a deep sense of relief coming off of him as he prayed.

If Alistair wasn't thinking, she reasoned, he was probably fighting. At the practice courts she found him leaning on the heavy railing of the viewing balcony, watching Cailin work with the swordmaster. She leaned next to him, saying nothing, trying to figure out where to start.

Alistair kept his eyes on Cailin and sighed. "Don't you have Warden business to attend to?"

"I don't even know where to begin," she admitted.

"You seemed pretty sure of yourself back there."

With a small shrug she replied, "I always try to sound sure, even when I'm not. Besides, assessments were obvious, its what comes next…"

Alistair interrupted her, "What comes next is you leave me."

"What?" she gasped, the cold statement hitting her like a punch to the belly.

"Grey Warden headquarters are in Weisshaupt, that's where the First is stationed," he intoned.

Elinora caught her breath and found her voice again. "I'll be damned."

"What?" Alistair finally looked at her.

"Headquarters are wherever I say they are."

"How could you…?"

She snorted, "I've broken so many traditions already, what's one more? In fact, I should hope they expected that."

A small smile touched his lips and he actually made eye contact. "Probably. So where?"

"Amaranthine, if his majesty will allow it. Its already fitted for training and the harbor will allow Wardens to move throughout Thedas faster."

"That would have been very helpful during the Blight. I grant you permission and all that rot." He turned back to the court and grew distant again.

Elinora nuzzled his jaw with her nose. "What is it, love? Tell me."

His eyes closed, the admission painful. "We were just starting to become a real family, and now…"

She nodded and leaned her head against his strong shoulder. "I know, I'm worried about that too, I have been in one way or another since you proposed at Ostagar*."

"Any solutions?"

"One day at a time, and make sure that the people I love know it." She looked up to him, her blue-green eyes, shining with unexpected tears, searched for his. "I love you, Alistair."

His arm came around her shoulders, drawing her into his body. He held her as if she might vanish, breathing in the warm scent of her hair as her head rested on his shoulder. "I love you, Elinora."

Tears that she couldn't swallow fell. "I'm going to try. I'm going to do the best I can. I probably won't go down in history as the best First Warden, or the perfect mother or the most attentive wife, but I'm going to try."

Alistair kissed her forehead and stroked her hair from crown all the way down to the tip of her braid, his fingers playing with the brush end after the tie. "That's all I can ask." He let her braid drop away and lifted her chin with her fingers. One light kiss for each tear stained cheek, then a real one, long and deep.

"What did they do?" demanded a small voice behind them. Elinora and Alistair broke away from each other to find a very angry Cailin glaring at them with his arms crossed.

Elinora knelt before her adopted son and took his hands. "Just made our lives far more complicated." She hugged him tightly, glancing up at Alistair with a look that said everything.

This was not going to be easy, but they would manage.

Some how.

_*See another of my fics, "Requiem at Ostagar"._


	44. Chapter 43 Meet the New Boss

_A/N – Oh hai… no I haven't forgotten about you, dear readers. I got a little stuck, and then I wandered off to Rapture and I'm finally playing Awakening (which will probably not have any bearing on this fic whatsoever… probably)._

_So, the short version: I got distracted by shiny objects._

_This should shock no one._

_BTW – if you haven't played the Bioshock games, do it. I'm usually not one for FPSs or survival horror myself, but both Bioshock 1 and 2 are stunning in art direction, philosophy and game play._

_Enough advertising._

_Anyway, I'm back. Let's just hope my brain agrees._

_Oh, and in my hunt for inspiration, I've joined the swooping is bad community on LiveJournal under willowstead42. It made sense at the time._

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 43**

**Meet the New Boss**

That Evening

"I can't believe you went and got married without me!" Leliana was pouting through a cheeky grin, forgiving but not forgetting. It was the second time Elinora had seen her old companion since returning to Denerim, and the first had involved a lot of groveling. Impromptu or not, Leliana was not happy about missing the wedding or Duncen's birth.

Granted, Elinora wasn't the only one leaving people out of monumental events. "I can't believe you went and joined the Chantry, vows and all, without telling anyone!" Elinora replied with equal teasing exasperation.

Leliana shrugged. A deep-rooted guilt and an aching sense of loss had brought her before Revered Mother Gylda months ago. As Leliana blurted out every sin she'd committed, including her spying on Aida for Alistair, Gylda listened empathically. When the words ran out, the priest put a hand to the bard's head and forgave her, simple as that. The weight came off Leliana's soul. They shared tea and by the end of it, Leliana had decided to return to the Chantry.

Within a few weeks, she took her vows under Gylda's watchful eye. Leliana knew the games of power too well not realize what Gylda was up to, the revered mother saw her as the means to the king's ear. And Leliana had no problems playing that role. How could one resist the front row seat to history, or to put one's hand into the shaping of Chantry policy in Ferelden?

But tonight was not Leliana's celebration or assignment; it was a chance to see old friends, even if they didn't invite certain people to their sudden weddings. "Holy orders are meant to be private, weddings for are for loved ones to gather and shower the newlyweds with affection and judgment."

Elinora snorted. "But my mother's gone and everyone else seems to approve."

Leliana screwed up her face with disbelief. "Your mother would find fault with you marrying a king and your true love?"

"She might be pleased with that, the king part especially, but not this Warden business."

"Right," Leliana commented slyly. Her gaze swept the assembled, taking in the commanders, Wardens and assorted Ferelden nobility in town for the coming Landsmeet. "First Warden. I didn't see that coming. So what's next?"

Elinora's expression became embarrassed and a little guilty. "Queen?"

Leliana stared at her for a moment before dissolving into a fit of giggles. "Of course… Alistair… king… right." She got herself under control after a few moments with a shake of her head. "No matter how many titles they pile on, you two will always be the shy couple who slunk out of camp for some time alone and generally came back covered in mud or leaves."

Elinora groaned and hid her face in her hands. "And we thought we were being so subtle."

"And that still doesn't beat that 'rest break' in the ruined temple full of spiders and werewolves! Of all the inappropriate places…"

"You sound like Wynne!"

With a snort, Leliana said, "Hardly, she was overjoyed when you two finally got on with it. I suppose Alistair really does know where babies come from, at least now."

Elinora giggled and looked around the Great Hall for her husband, only to find him proudly showing off his newest son to Bann Alfstanna and two younger men. Alistair was quite the proud father. At some point soon they would have to have a conversation about not favoring one child over another, which was going to be difficult for both of them.

All the royal children were out among the guests. Eamon was seated on a bench with Isolde, one of the twins on her lap, Teagan standing next to them holding the other, clearly showing off their great-nieces to an assortment of Wardens and nobles. The girls were only two years old, but they were lovely and well-behaved, prefect princesses. Cailin and Maricen were at the back of the Hall with a group of Wardens. Bresal watched Cailin closely as Izidor showed the boy a new fencing technique, one common in Nevarra. There was a glint of approval in the haggard soldier's gaze. Cailin was going to be quite the warrior when he grew up, and Maricen was ever his brother's shadow.

Elinora smiled. "Yes, our motley royal family.

"And more picturesque they could not be," said an Antivan voice behind her. Elinora rose, expecting Commander Rabio, but was greeted with an affectionate hug and kiss by Zevran. "I hear the Wardens continue to paint the target on your back ever larger."

"Interesting way of looking at it," Elinora muttered. She wished it could be passed off as teasing, but the assassin wasn't wrong. "I'm surprised you're in town."

"Only a fool continues down a cold trail. They will show themselves eventually, the bait is too good." His sly knowing smile did not reassure her. She did not like being bait.

"Just so," countered another Antivan voice as a knife appeared at Zevran's throat. "First Warden, there is a Crow in your nest."

"I know," Elinora snapped. "How do you think we met? Let him go, Commander. Now."

Rabio's glance shot the daggers he was not able to physically use on Zevran. He released the elf with a slight shove and sheathed his weapon. "A pet Crow then. How useful."

Zevran bristled for heartbeat, then covered it with a careless grin as a light of recognition flared in his eyes. "Not enough freelance work, eh Rabio? Do the Wardens keep you in brandy?"

Rabio lazily leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving Zevran. "No, they keep me in purpose. I have not needed brandy since."

Zevran looked to Elinora. "As I suspected; a good man, thus a poor assassin."

"Stupid question, I know," Leliana piped up, "but you two know each other, yes?"

Zevran shrugged. "Only a little, mostly by reputation. During my training, Rabio here was a prime example of why one should not work for themselves."

"I was a prime example of a derelict drunk, wasting his skills and talent," Rabio admitted. "And then I got into a bar fight with a Grey Warden and the rest, as they say, is history. But my misspent youth is not why I came over, nor is your questionable company. First Warden, Zelig would like to speak with you."

Elinora excused herself from her old comrades and took the arm Rabio offered. Zelig sat in a corner, watching the festivities with his usual academic eye. He peppered her with questions about Duncen, most of which she could answer, but some where beyond her ken. Finally, Zelig threw up his hands in exasperation. "First Warden, I need to examine the boy before I depart. I must insist!"

Now was not the time for a healer's appointment. "Perhaps tomorrow, Warden Zelig …"

"So," Izidor appeared at her elbow with a charming smile, rescuing her from the earnest mage, "what radical changes will our new First Warden bring about, eh?"

Bresal and Rabio flanked Izidor, waiting for her answer. Elinora studied the collected Commanders of the Grey, suspecting there was more to the question. If she read them correctly, then they really were expecting change and were, quite literally, asking for it. "Since you asked, I am moving headquarters from the middle of nowhere in Weisshaupt, to Amaranthine."

Commanders of the Grey, experienced in the traditions and guidelines of the Grey Wardens, stared at her, faces masks of neutrality. Then Bresal extended a hand to Izidor, palm up. Izidor sighed and dug a gold sovereign from his pouch and dropped it into the offered hand.

"Am I so predictable?" she demanded.

Bresal gave her a stony look. "A woman would not leave her newborn or new husband." At her glare, the one reserved for impudent children, he shifted, coughing uncomfortably. "And it is a good idea. Weisshaupt is isolated and so entrenched in 'that's the way its always been done' that they missed the Blight. Idiots."

"I see," Elinora said coldly. "Along that same line, I would prefer to have less Grey Warden tucked up in fortresses and more Grey Wardens out and about, looking for Darkspawn, not waiting for them to show up."

This time Rabio put out his hand and Bresal passed his newly won sovereign on to the Antivan with a grunt. Izidor also handed Rabio a coin.

"Radical indeed," Izidor muttered. "And how will you keep your scattered soldiers from getting too embroiled in local politics?"

She snorted. "That is likely unavoidable, but a few history lessons and a regular rotation should do the trick. Between kingdoms if necessary."

"Join the Grey Wardens; see the world!" Rabio grinned. The chance to get out of the stinking hell pit he'd spent years wallowing in had been his main motivation for becoming a Warden. A little tainted blood and a shortened lifespan seemed a small price to pay, then and now.

"Just so," she said with a smile. "Our fortresses will become training bases and archives. Speaking of which, I want some scholars…"

A baby's wail from across the Hall snatched her attention away from the Commanders and outlining her plans. She excused herself to collect her infant son from his father. Alistair utter perplexed as to why Duncen was screaming like a shriek on fire. But she knew, and a sniff confirmed it. "Its bedtime for the lot of them anyway. I'll take them up."

With only a small display of whining, Elinora was able to persuade the boys to bid farewell to their guests (and very nobly too) and head upstairs, Isolde and a nursemaid behind her with the Aurora and Wynn. Yet more nursemaids set about the business of getting the elder royal children ready for bed, as Elinora herself took care of Duncen, diaper and all.

Isolde found her in the midst of settling in with Duncen at her breast. "When I first saw you, all those years ago, all blood and blades, I never would have imagined…" She trailed off, waving a graceful hand at the tableau of domesticity. "It is strange."

"Strange?" Elinora quirked an eyebrow.

But she would get no explanation. "Excuse me, First Warden," Zelig stepped into the room, giving it a cursory examination. His focused settled on Duncen and his mother, completely ignoring Isolde. "Would now be convenient?"

Elinora shot Isolde a glance. "Lady Isolde, if you would excuse us?"

Isolde looked between the very old man and Elinora, one breast bared to feed her child, nodded once then departed. Elinora fought to keep her eyes from rolling.

Once the door shut on Isolde's heels, Zelig stepped closer. "If the First Warden will permit me?" He raised a hand. With a bright flare, a glow settled around it. Starting at Duncen's wiggling toes, he slowly passed his hand over the child, letting it hover for a few moments longer over Duncen's head and Elinora's breast.

Heat rose in her cheeks, but she tried to push it down. Duncen's attention left his meal and found Zelig's glowing hand. His tiny fingers reached up to grasp one of Zelig's gnarled and effulgent ones.

"Interesting," the mage muttered and then proceeded to making cooing noises he wiggled the finger Duncen held.

No magic as strong as a baby's cuteness, Elinora chuckled to herself.

Zelig caught himself and straightened up, clearing his throat. "You should desist breastfeeding as soon as possible. Your milk is almost as tainted as your blood."

Color drained from her face as she juggled the baby and closed up her breastplate, denying him access to her poisoned milk. "What have I done?"

The mage apologetically stepped back. "Oh, the boy is fine. Just as I would expect a child born a Grey Warden to be. Not that I have a comparison."

"Jurgen's journals?" Elinora suggested. Everyone seemed to know about them at this point.

Zelig confirmed it with curt nod. "I've read them, while we were at Wiesshaupt. No, I simply think it would be wise not to continue giving the boy a steady influx of the taint. Other than that, I have no other advice. As far as I can discern, his mind and body are sound."

"At the moment."

"Yes, please watch him closely, and keep a record."

With a hushed, dark laugh, Elinora nodded. After all the consternation with Henrrick's lost records, she was making an effort to write down everything. Currently, there was nothing unusual to report, though Petra claimed Duncen was far too… she'd had a hard time finding the right word, and finally settled on calculating. Duncen only cried when he needed something, and those cries were specific. Hungry was high-pitched and nasal compared to wet, which was lower and more uncomfortable than demanding. His tired cry was a stream of fussy babbles.

Of course, maybe it was more than timbre and timing.

As her child sorted out new emotions and experiences, Elinora could sense him. Curiosity, wonder and frustration accompanied his physical needs. More and more, she was certain the connection went both ways. He reacted to her emotions, an infant mirror to her complicated adult world.

It was going to be an interesting childhood.


	45. Chapter 44 Fever

_A/N: Wow, it's a long climb back from falling off the face of the earth…. But here's a wicked long chapter to make up for it! And if you haven't read "The Fever" you might want to. And "Duty's Journey". And everything else too_

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 44**

**Fever**

Amaranthine – 9: 41 Dragon, Fall 2, 3rd day

First Warden Elinora sat heavily on the edge of her son's bed, and, for the first time in a long time, wept. Tears tumbled without permission from her shadowed eyes as sobs tore from her breast. She bit her hand, not wanting to disturb him. Duncen was still now, no longer howling or crying, but sweat beaded on his flushed face and his breath was labored. The Warden fever burned.

It was something all Wardens went through; a night of fire brought on by the Joining. Their first test was surviving the nightmares of Darkspawn and their own personal demons, and the dreams of the lives they had left behind. She'd burned many who didn't make it.

Elinora knew that the fever was a possibility. As Duncen's fifth birthday came and went, she hoped that it had skipped him. It had not, catching up with a vengeance two days ago.

She clutched First Warden Jurgen's ancient journal to her chest, curling around it, trying to hide from her own tears. The long dead man had not been nearly helpful enough; no matter how many times she read the entry, it was always the same.

_7:92 Storm – Winter 3, 26th day_

_Birkey, son of Blythe, burns with fever, one that very closely resembles the fever we go through during the Joining. Charlot fears for the child's mind. Blythe sits by her son and weeps, unnatural for a woman born to her name. Edrick stays solemnly at his adopted mother and brother's side._

_I shall note here that Edrick and Vivienne remain healthy, normal children. Four years old now and very smart according to those who know of such things._

_Griselde and Franar, sadly, are not well. Their bodies grow wrong, for lack of a better term._

In short, it told her nothing. In the end, Charlot noted that the fever had damaged Birkey's mind, that he would be nothing more than a sweet boy.

Elinora, Hero of Ferelden and First Warden of Thedas, had never been so frightened in her life. Not when kidnapped by a god, not when facing the Archdemon, not in any of a dozen battles with swarms of Darkspawn, not even that terrible night in Highever. She could fight those with steel and wits. This was very different. This battle she fought only with a cold, wet rag and time.

Too much time; too long for his mind to come out of this in one piece even if his body survived.

Petra had come and done what she could; a tincture of elfroot and other herbs and the continued use of a cold compress until the fever broke. She left instructions to continue dosing the boy when possible and to get some water in him. Zelig had maintained his vigil as long as he could, but was finally overwhelmed as Duncen's nightmares bled across the Warden bond.

Elinora would not leave her son, no matter how bad the dreams got.

At least Duncen's screaming had stopped. For an hour he had physically wrestled monsters that only he could see, shredding a blanket in the process. Before that there had been singing, nursery songs mostly, but with a few saltier tunes that he must have picked up from the Wardens. She didn't care. He could sing every verse of the 'Mistress of the Guard' and she wouldn't shove a bar of soap in his mouth, just as long as he was all right.

Warm hands slid over her shaking shoulders, then continued to wrap around her, pulling her into the protective circle of his arms. She didn't need to look to know who it was; Alistair. She turned in his embrace, her tears making a soft plink on his armor. He let her cry, whispering soft words of comfort, even as his eyes searched Duncen for a sign of hope. The boy was breathing and flushed, twitching everyone once in a while, just like every Grey Warden in the grips of the fever.

Eventually, a thought other than her own distress penetrated Elinora's churning mind. "Why aren't you in Denerim?"

"Good too see you too," he whispered wryly, a comforting hand stroking her hair. "I had a nightmare the other night; Duncen on fire. I rode out at first light."

"Andraste's blood, how many horses did you kill to get here so fast?"

"Just the two," he admitted, truly not caring at the moment. Alistair let his wife go with a squeeze and went over to his son. Gently he pushed sweat-soaked dark-blonde hair from his forehead. "How is he?"

Elinora gulped. "Burning up. Same as he's been for over a day."

"What do we do?" Alistair picked up Duncen's hand a squeezed it.

Her eyes fell to the blankets, an unheard of resignation in her voice. "Not much we can do. Keep pouring water and that stuff Petra left down his throat, cold compress. Pray." She slid off the end of the bed and went for the tincture bottle Petra had left. "Help me."

Alistair nodded. He slid his strong hands under his son's shoulders and lifted. Duncen's head tilted back and mouth opened. Elinora poured just a few drops down his throat. Alistair set the boy upright as Elinora lifted his chin and stroked his neck, causing the muscles to contract and swallow. Duncen sputtered a little, but the potion went down. They settled him back into bed, covers tucked high and a fresh compress on his forehead.

With Duncen settled, Alistair looked over at his wife. Elinora hadn't looked this awful since her own fever, directly on the heels of a run through the Korcari Wilds and the tragedy at Highever. "Have you slept since this began?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

She shrugged, her weary eyes trained on Duncen. "Not really, no."

"You should try," Alistair suggested gently.

"No."

"But..."

"Not leaving his side." Her luminous eyes, undimmed even in this state, met his. "You didn't leave mine."

A soft smile drifted across Alistair's face, a memory that was happy in spite of itself called to mind. "Alright, my love. We'll stay right here." He rolled his plated shoulders. "Help me out of my armor, will you?"

She did, and sent a servant to fetch a fresh tunic and breeches for him. They kept a small stash here, mostly rough and tumble practice clothes. These visits to Amaranthine, usually under much better circumstances, often included his best sparring sessions. The Wardens regularly forgot the king part and remembered the somewhat lapsed member of their order who needed to reminding of where he started.

Once changed, he settled onto the end of the grown-up sized bed, leaning against one of the posts of the four-poster frame. This wasn't Duncen's usual room; that was a nursery suite that he shared with the other royal children when they were in Amaranthine, as they often were. For now, he was in quarantine, even though this fever was not contagious. Cailin and Maricen, both currently in residence, didn't need to hear Duncen's screaming, though they had visited several times since their little brother had gotten sick.

Alistair pulled his wife into his arms, her back to his chest and they watched their son together. Elinora settled in, her eyes never leaving Duncen, but glad to have a respite from the constant fear. It was still there, cloying to her mind, but now muffled in something warm. Maybe it could be further drowned out with a little distraction. "Tell me what's going on at court," she ventured.

Alistair shrugged a bit. "Its boring."

"Maybe it'll put me to sleep."

"Stranger things have happened." He kissed her hair and tried to choose where to start. "Chantry and the Tower are still going at it."

"Still? It's been five years! Didn't you issue some sort of ultimatum that was supposed to prod them along?"

"And it did, to an extent, but the Chantry's dug their heels in. Even Gylda's not budging."

"Eesh." Gylda, after quite the campaign, finally managed to get herself named Grand Cleric. Leliana had been instrumental in getting her installed, and continued to run interference between the Chantry and palace. Generally it was a functional arrangement, but there were days…

Alistair switched to a more pleasant topic. "Sybila's push for less restrictive treatment of mages is going well, however. She's slowly convincing arls and banns to have a court mage or two on hand, legal and open. I think her next mission is allowing apprentices to visit their families."

"Radical notion," Elinora said dryly. The last time she had been in Denerim, she had noticed Sybila and Isolde spending a goodly amount of time together. Sybila pushed the case that the isolation of mages eroded their humanity, making the abuse of magic more likely. Elinora saw her point, but kept her mouth shut. She had to admit, a less controlling Chantry would make recruiting mages easier, politically. The Grey Wardens had often been the refuge of apostates, the Right of Conscription protecting them from pursuing Templars. While it worked, it made the mage's training and control unpredictable. "So what's keeping them from moving forward?"

"Templars and evil wizards."

"Oh please," Elinora huffed, incredulity dripping from her words.

"I'm not kidding. Both sides are taking the extreme ends of the issue." A frustrated sigh escaped, something he usually didn't allow to happen. "The worst part is that they are both right. I just wish they would come to some sort of arrangement and get out of my hair!"

Elinora chuckled. The palace had been serving as neutral territory for these talks and Alistair was doing his damnedest to get this done, but it was exhausting. Crow's feet were starting to pop out around his eyes, and his smile lines were more pronounced. Despite the obvious signs of stress and age, he was still as adorable has he had been the day she met him at Ostagar.

Alistair lightly nuzzled her neck, his nose to the tattoo that matched his own. "Your turn. What do you hear from Highever?"

It took Elinora a moment to get her mind back to the last letter she had received from her brother and sister-in-law. "Sophie's discovered gardening, or at least how much fun it is to pull up Twyla's flowers."

Alistair snickered. He could very clearly picture the little girl, covered in mud from head to toe with a bright and slightly mischievous grin on her face. He hadn't seen Fergus's family in almost a year. The lot of the royal family had descended on Highever to celebrate First Day, including the recent arrival of the youngest Cousland, a fine son named Brice. It was a true family holiday.

Sophie was so different from Alistair's own daughters. She had rosy cheeks and chestnut hair just like her aunt; all earthy energy and giggles. Aurora and Wynn were both so… pristine; blonde curls and blue eyes and an unnatural coolness for a pair of six-year olds. Wynn and her cousin had gotten on well enough; held quite the tea party for Sophie's dolls and a very patient Cailin, but Aurora was not interested in such childish games.

"And Amaranthine?" He moved on from worrying about his daughters.

"Running smoothly, thanks to Orbert and Kinna more than anything else."

Alistair chuckled. "So when's the wedding?"

Elinora snorted. "The twenty-ninth of never. She's an elf, and he's a prince, and they're both Grey Wardens. And believe me when I tell you, that was not a fun conversation."

"And I thought our love was impossible," Alistair muttered.

Truth be told, they had both known that marriage was not an option, but there was a little disappointment in Kinna's eyes when they discussed children. Once she had read the old journal, she understood better. Their romance didn't seem diminished by it; Elinora still found Kinna on Orbert's lap as they went over the arling's ledgers together.

Elinora snuggled back into Alistair's arms just a little more. "Not impossible, just really difficult." She rested her head against one solid bicep, her eyes drifting over their sick son. Alistair pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head, then rested his chin on it.

Difficult was hardly a strong enough word. She had never heard of a marriage so distant, at least not between a couple that actually loved each other. Alistair was needed in Denerim. Not only was there the regular governing of Ferelden to do, but he made it his mission to untangle the knot of Chantry and Tower politics he had helped create.

For her part, Elinora needed to stay out of Ferelden politics and focus on her duties as First Warden. New information poured into Amaranthine; Grey Warden records, scholarly research on the Old Gods, Darkspawn and Archdemons, and report upon report of the status of various outposts throughout Thedas. The best minds of the Wardens were coming to her, eager to help research how to deal with Ashling, should they ever find her. Besides that, she was steadily prying Wardens out of their fortresses and out into the world. Four-hundred years without a Blight had made them complacent. All this progress left little time for marriage.

Fortunately for Alistair and Elinora, Denerim was only two days away by carriage or sensible riding. With fast couriers and well-chosen way stations, a message sent at dawn could be in the other's hands by the following dawn. And, to make meeting easier, they had turned an abandoned manor at the southern end of the Wending Wood, right off the Pilgrim's Path, into a grand way station, one day from both Denerim and what was now called Warden's Keep. They really needed to find a proper name for it; the Royal's Love Nest would make cartographers blush.

As conversation dropped off, her thoughts rambled into various pieces of business, but could not focus on one. She could sense Alistair's mind-set was much the same. The quiet was comfortable, even if the circumstance was terrifying.

Elinora had started to drift into something like sleep when Duncen started to mutter and toss again. At first it was small; a few garbled words and shifts from one side to the other. Mother, gold, out, tower. Whatever was happening in his head got worse. He started to thrash, pulling away the sheets and throwing the rag across the room. He was yelling words that were only half intelligible; no, monster, brother, Warden.

Elinora darted to the head of the bed and pulled her tormented son into her arms. Alistair slid closer, ready to catch him if he got loose. Amid her gentle shushing noises, she was sobbing again. "Please Duncen, shhhh… come back to me..."

Duncen gasped and went still. For a horrible moment, Elinora thought he was gone. But his heart beat under her hand. Duncen wasn't lost yet.

His chin lifted and small body bolted upright, free of Elinora's arms.

"It will be all right. I will keep him whole."

The voice came from Duncen, and was mostly his own, but it sounded older, experienced. It was not the speech of a child.

Alistair blinked, his mouth agape. "Duncen?" The way he said it, Elinora wasn't sure of the spelling.

And then her son collapsed back into her arms. She checked him over, trying to keep her hands from trembling. Duncen's pulse was steady and breathing even. And finally his skin was no longer on fire. He looked for all the world like a normal, sleeping boy.

"What just happened?" Alistair's voice was shaking.

Elinora eased Duncen back under the covers. She gently daubed his face with a dry cloth, then rested her fingers on his cheek for a moment. "He's not alone in there. And here I always thought that was a dream." Her eyes hadn't left Duncen.

Alistair went to her side. He put one hand on her shoulder, and took Duncen's hand in the other. "Eli, what dream?"

She took a long, slow breath. "The night he was born, I think I died for a bit. But Duncan, the original Duncan, pushed me back. He came with me." She closed her eyes, the Fade spinning past her as they fell back into the real world. "Had to be a dream."

"You did die for minute. Petra…" He pulled her closer with a small shudder. That was a moment he didn't want to revisit. "Come here." He tugged her back to the foot of the bed, back to their post.

It was a dull watch. Duncen slept on, untroubled. A certain peacefulness caught up with them. Or maybe it was exhaustion.

Something shook Elinora's shoulder.

"Mama?"

Elinora opened eyes that had closed without her permission. Alistair was behind her, draped half on, half off the bed and snoring lightly. In front of her was the best thing she had ever seen: "Duncen?"

He smiled; a bright grin that reminded her of Alistair and her father all at once. "Why are you sleeping on the end of my bed, mama?"

Elinora sat up with a start and snatched her son to her, hugging him like he might vanish. "Because you were sick, silly boy." Relief washed over her as she held Duncen. He was whole, and real, and well.

"I feel fine, mama," the boy stated plainly.

Alistair, having been woken up by his wife's sudden movements, got up and circled around as Duncen squirmed out Elinora's embrace. He caught up his son with a hug as ferocious as his mother's. Duncen, again, wriggled away before his ribs were cracked. Grown ups were crazy sometimes, and his mother certainly looked it. "Mama, you look awful."

Alistair snickered and sat on the bed. "From the mouths of babes…"

"Not a baby." Duncen pouted.

Alistair beamed at his youngest. "Most definitely not, my little warrior."

Elinora shot both of them a look. "Such charming princes, flattering me all the time."

Alistair grinned at his wife as Duncen crawled into his lap with a yawn. "We're not some poofy princes, are we Duncen? We're Grey Wardens, whom you always tell to be honest and frank with you, right?"

Duncen nodded sleepily as he snuggled closer to his father. "I'm hungry."

Elinora shook her head with a smile as she went to the door. A page waited outside. "We need porridge for Duncen, and fetch Healer Petra. He's awake." The boy nodded and took off running. As she watched him go, she tried to place a name to the gangly teenager and came up with nothing. There were so many of them these days.

After the break with the Chantry, Blight orphans had started turning up in Amaranthine. Whether it was a political statement or simply acts of pragamaticism, Chantries across Ferelden declared they could not afford care for so many orphans. And so they dumped their charges, mostly boys over the age of seven, on the Grey Wardens and the palace. Over the years, a great many had been fostered out various noble houses throughout Ferelden, but the hardest cases came to Warden's Keep.

For their part, most Wardens had taken to mentoring a lost child. It was the opportunity at fatherhood that many had missed. They claimed to be raising the next generation of the Order, though Elinora had flatly proclaimed that the children would make their own choices about their lives. She forbade them to undertake the Joining until they were ready and at least twenty years old. In the meantime, these orphans were educated, cared for, and their talents encouraged, all while serving the Keep and the Wardens as was appropriate to their age.

Elinora pushed open the heavy curtains just a little and flinched at the bright daylight. She judged it to be mid-afternoon. The sparring rings were all in use as Wardens trained. Their kennel master had three mabari working with assistants on various commands in the paddock. Warden's Keep bustled on with the day-to-day business that was a working fortress. Business she needed to get back to.

Alistair looked up from Duncen, sleepily playing with a toy horse in his arms, and frowned at Elinora. Her shoulders tensed with exhausted stress, like she was drawing herself up to face a fight. He could tell she was making a mental list of all the things she needed to do, now that Duncen was on the mend. He would have to do something about that.

But before Alistair could even say anything, the door opened to admit Petra, carrying a bowl of porridge. "Good to see you, your Majesty," she said to Alistair with a nod, then turned her focus onto Duncen. "And even better to see you awake and playing, Duncen!" She set the bowl on the bedside table and tickled him. Duncen squirmed and giggled, but not nearly as much as usual.

Petra felt his forehead and cheeks, touched slightly glowing fingers to his temples and took a long look at his eyes. "Well, that's done with." She poured a bit of her tincture into a cup, and then filled the rest with water. She handed it to Duncen and ordered, "Drink all of this, right now."

Duncen made a face, but obeyed. Once done, Petra handed Alistair the porridge bowl and let them have at it. With the boys busy, the healer went to Elinora, giving her the same once over she had given Duncen. "You need rest. Now."

Elinora rolled her eyes. "No rest for the First. Just hit me with a Rejuvenation spell and tell we what Duncen needs now. Then I need to get back to work."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No. I'm sorry, but I will do no such thing. You need real and solid sleep."

"I order…"

Petra's wicked smile spread across her face. "I'm not a Warden, you can't order me to do anything."

"But..."

"She's right," Alistair broke in. "Darling, you need rest. So do I, come to think of it."

Duncen yawned.

Petra looked at him. "So does Duncen. So, sleep for the royal family, Healer's orders."

Elinora sighed. She was out of fight, especially when she was outnumbered and out-reasoned. "Fine."

"Good," Petra said smugly. "I've already had food sent to your rooms. I don't expect to see either of you until morning. Neither does anyone else, got it?"

"Yes Healer Petra," Alistair saluted as best he could with a child in his lap. For his part, Duncen had finished his porridge in record time. Petra took the bowl and withdrew, allowing mother and father to do something they rarely got to do together; tuck in their son.

With Duncen already drifting off to sleep, Alistair and Elinora headed for her rooms.

She managed to veer off to her study, only to find Orbert standing against the door, giving the First Warden a stern look he reserved for his inferiors.

"Sorry, First Warden," Orbert said with a chagrined smile, "Healer Petra's orders, and in this case hers supercede yours. Besides, there's nothing on the docket that needs your attention right now. And your dinner should be waiting in your rooms."

Elinora sighed as Alistair chuckled under his breath. She jabbed him in the ribs with an exasperated smile. "Food and sleep, that's all that's left for me to do." Orbert saluted as they turned and continue up the corridor.

Alistair leaned down to her ear as he offered his arm. "That's not all…" He nipped a quick kiss to her earlobe.

The look she shot him was at once sultry and scandalized. "Could we at least get behind closed doors before you start making… suggestions?"

Another chuckle rumbled. "So professional. As you wish, First Warden."

"Your Majesty is too kind."

But once the door closed, more than suggestions were made.

As the last of the sunlight faded, so did they, twined in the haven of each other's arms; a paradise they didn't get to experience nearly as often as they would like.

Which made it all the sweeter.


	46. Chapter 45 Little Girl Lost

**Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 45**

**Little Girl Lost**

Dragon 44, Spring 1, 15th day

North of Denerim, en route to Amaranthine

"Cailin! Slow down!"

The boy, no, he wasn't that anymore, but he wasn't a man yet either, reined in his mount with a frustrated sigh. Elinora watched the teenage impatience play out across his face, but he schooled his features before she got too close. "Fine, Mother. We'll creep our way back to Warden's Keep and get there just in time for you to head for your Calling in the Deep Roads."

Elinora's sorrel mare, an easy thing named Genny, trotted to meet up with his sleek blood bay, a young Antivan race horse that Cailin had dubbed Kell. Rabio had sent it as gift for Cailin's thirteenth birthday, much to her displeasure. Elinora found the beast to be as much an impatient teenager as her son. "Aren't you sweet?" she drawled with a raised eyebrow. "And wherever did you get such a smart mouth?"

Cailin grinned, his blue eyes glinting, reminding her, as he often did, of his father. That grin was pure Cailan Theirin, charming and brash. His hair had darkened from the honey blonde of his childhood to a robust fawn and his features were no longer those of a boy. He was taller than Elinora already, and lean with broad shoulders that hinted to future brawniness. "I learned from the best," he retorted. "Sorry, I just really want to get back and get training again."

"So eager to grow-up." A sad smile drifted across Elinora's face as she urged Genny to keep a pace with Kell, a slightly faster canter than she would have liked, but manageable. "And so vanishes the little boy who asked to call me 'mother'. How time does fly."

Cailin rolled his eyes, but kept smiling as they continued through a patch of forest. They were making good time from Denerim, and should reach the Nest before sundown. The day was fortunately clear, though still fairly chilly this early in spring. Slowly melting snow drifts made the road muddy, but not enough to hamper them.

They had spent a lovely First Day in Denerim, the entire royal family, including Fergus and his brood. Presents and feasting and lots and lots of public appearances had made the week fly. Now, it was back to business and, for First Warden Elinora, Amaranthine. Alistair and the children remained in Denerim under the strict tutelage of several scholars and etiquette masters, much to Duncen and Maricen's displeasure. Cailin took full advantage of not being heir to the Theirin throne and continued training with the Wardens.

Alistair was still trying to settle the question of succession in his own mind, though the official line put the crown on Maricen's head. The truth of his paternity was mostly buried, until one noticed that he didn't look at all like Alistair. The Theirin bloodline may not continue to rule after Alistair, not that many would know that it had vanished. Still, succession was an issue that Elinora tried to keep out of. The Grey Wardens had their fill of meddling in Ferelden politics long before she was born.

The canopy overhead became thicker, almost blotting out the midday sun. They turned a sharp bend in the road, only to haul back on their reins. A cloaked and hooded figure with a staff in hand stood in the middle of the road, mere feet from being run down. Elinora's horse bucked.

The figure struck the staff to the ground. A great wave shook the earth, causing Genny to panic wildly.

Elinora tried and failed to keep her seat. She flew, hitting the muddy road hard, her shoulders taking most of the impact. Mud might have the only thing that prevented her neck from snapping.

Pain darkened her vision, but her limbs still worked, poorly. As she tried to push herself up, she heard a male voice yell, "Run boy!"

"Cailin…" Elinora croaked, still trying to extricate herself from the ground. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out two figures, one the cloaked mage and the other in heavy armor.

The mage turned to her, amber eyes flashing above high cheekbones. "Not now," said a deep, female voice with a wave of her staff.

Elinora was dragged down into unconsciousness.

* * *

"…could have killed her," grumbled a man.

"And I could have brought her back if it had," the female voice replied tartly. They were familiar. Elinora's mental fog went cold with dread. She managed to wrench her eyes open and tried to sit up, only to find that her hands were bound in front of her, as were her ankles. She groaned as her shoulders protested any sort of movement.

Her captors turned, their faces immediately known. "Maker's blood…." Elinora croaked. "Morrigan… Rainer…"

Witch and Warden stared down at her. The years had not been kind to either of them, a certain weathering starting to show the passage of time and strain of years. Grey streaked Morrigan's dark hair at the temples and Rainer's was not as shiny as it used to be. He'd grown a beard, which was currently in need of some attending to. Crow's feet crinkled around their shadowed eyes.

Morrigan frowned, stiffening as she said, "Tis nice to see you too, Elinora. Or should I say First Warden."

Rainer knelt beside Elinora with a cup in hand. "Stole my job, did you?" With a wry smile, he helped her sit up and placed the cup to her lips, cutting off any answer she would have had. "Drink. Its just water."

Elinora's parched tongue beat out her paranoid mind and she drank. It was the best stale, leather-tainted water she had ever had. And it gave her time to clear her mind and assess the situation. Crumbling statues told her this was an Avvar shrine, lit with a few mage lights and a small fire. She was on a cloak-draped boulder, her wrist bindings attached to a statue just behind her. It seemed a little simple; she could count four ways to get out this, even with a fuzzy head.

Which meant something was going on. Something big.

Once the cup was pulled away, she found a sardonic grin and hard glare for her abductors. "Kidnapping? Again? You two need a new routine."

Morrigan returned her grin. "Well, we could hardly come trotting into the palace for tea, now could we?"

"I'm hurt. I've been trying to get an invitation to you and your daughter for years!" Elinora looked over at Rainer. "He could come too. Alistair loves a good pissing match and it's highly entertaining."

Morrigan flinched, an inner pain surfacing to her face as Rainer took a comforting step closer to her.

Suspicion crept in as Elinora took another look around, stretching her Warden senses as she did. "Where is the little godling anyway?"

Morrigan's mouth thinned to a tight line. "Ashling has disappeared." Her voice broke on the last word, a crack showing in the icy calm.

A cold boulder dropped to the pit of Elinora's stomach. Her mouth worked before she managed to say, "Oh."

Eyes narrowed, Morrigan pinned Elinora with a glare that could have killed.

Rainer picked up the tale. "We rose one morning, about a month ago, and she was simply gone. Her bed was made and everything was in place, but no Ashling."

"She did not even take her coat or mittens or…" Morrigan turned away, her sentence strangled by emotion.

Rainer took the witch in his arms as she tried and failed to hold back tears. Elinora gaped; before her stood two parents, out of their minds with terror and grief for the disappearance of their child. Fear was something she never associated with Morrigan, and tears were almost incomprehensible. And yet, here she was, shaking, facing away from Elinora, trying to hide the emotions that consumed her.

All wit dried up as Elinora focused on the facts. "Where?"

Rainer did not let go of Morrigan as he looked to Elinora. "The Korcari Wilds."

"I had a feeling that's where you'd run to."

Rainer shook his head. "We did, eight years ago, but left not long afterwards. We'd only been there for three days when Ashling..."

Morrigan took a deep, steadying breath. Her composure regained, she turned, and bore down on Elinora, staff gripped in one white-knuckled hand as the other balled into a fist. "Tell me something, truly. Did you kill Flemeth?"

The topic shift was confusing, but Morrigan demanded an answer. Blood rushed to Elinora's face as an old choice came roaring back to bite her. "Ah. No."

Morrigan's empty hand lashed out, striking Elinora's cheek. Nails scored the delicate flesh as the witch screamed her rage. Rainer caught her hand before she could land another blow, but he wasn't able to completely hold her back. Morrigan raised her staff and shrieked words that Elinora had only heard a few times.

And then she felt like she was being slowly crushed by very air around her.

"How dare you lie to me, you stupid cow!" Morrigan was railing, completely lost to her fury. "This is all your fault! If you had simply done as I asked, Ashling would still be safe with me!"

Elinora swayed as spots started to dance in her vision, air completely cut off. Every bone her body had to be seconds away from snapping.

Rainer bear hugged Morrigan from behind. "Let her go! We need her!" He shook the witch, which pulled her out of her rage just enough. She wrenched herself from his grapple with a grunt. What a dark glower for both of them, she waved her staff in Elinora's direction.

The pressure vanished. Elinora gasped for air, blinking her eyes to get the spots out of them.

Morrigan's body was rigid. "Why?"

Elinora filled and emptied her lungs a time or two before answering. "The grimore was the priority. Flemeth handed it over in exchange for letting her go. I owed her for saving my life and figured she could be a useful ally." The consequences pulled her eyes to the ground. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Morrigan squeezed her eyes shut as she turned and paced away.

Rainer stayed where he was, but his worried gaze followed her.

Elinora was not so patient. "You said you need me. What for?"

He turned back to her, his expression sad and worn. "We suspect Ashling might come looking for you or your Warden-child, again."

Morrigan paced back, her amber glare falling coldly on Elinora, all of her burning rage spent. "Ashling has something of an obsession with you." Her eyes shifted to Rainer. "Tis a common ailment."

Elinora raised an eyebrow at Rainer, who looked away, busying himself with a water skin and a handkerchief. "So I'm bait," Elinora muttered dryly.

With a haughty lift of her chin, Morrigan almost smiled. "Just so. But if Flemeth has found her, Ashling is going to be far more dangerous than the little girl who came to fetch her brother."

"She was a little premature for that."

"No, I do not think so," Morrigan said slowly. "In fact, I believe she was late. If she truly wanted to put the soul of Razikale or Lusacan into your son, she should have done it much closer to conception. Less conflict with the original."

Elinora blinked at the implications.

Morrigan ignored her and continued. "Flemeth has some experience with the transfer of the soul to another, matured body. I fear my mother is going to teach Ashling some new tricks."

Elinora couldn't make one piece quite fit into this puzzle. "How is Flemeth involved?"

Again, Morrigan's fear strangled off the answer. Rainer approached Elinora with a wet handkerchief and daubed her cheek where it had been clawed. "Ashling was asking about her grandmother the night before she vanished. As we were staying in Flemeth's old hut, we took it for natural curiosity."

"Ashling is no natural child."

Morrigan's arms wrapped around her body, as if she was holding herself together. "She was. Sometimes. There were many days one would not know that she was different. She even played with regular children when we passed through populated areas."

Elinora reflected on the holiday she and Alistair had just spent with Fergus's family. All five royal children and the two Cousland offspring had made it quite the grand occasion. Even so, Aurora was not one to get mussed playing games that meant running around the castle or anything she deemed too silly. Wynn often followed her sister, sometimes clearly torn between having fun and 'behaving like a proper princess', as Aurora put it. If truly conflicted, Wynn would disappear into the library with a book. Elinora couldn't help but think that Morrigan's half-Warden, part-god child was more normal than her stepdaughters.

Rainer rose and put a supportive arm around Morrigan's waist. Despite the ropes eating into her wrists, the burning scratches on her cheek and the slight ache to the back of her head, Elinora felt a great well of sympathy. She'd almost lost Duncen a year and a half ago to the fever, and Cailin had suffered a broken arm as he tried to break in that damn horse of his. Both events had frightened her on levels she didn't know existed. If one of her children were to vanish outright? They would call out the entire Ferelden army, that was certain. Morrigan and Rainer didn't have that option, nor was this a simple case of a missing child.

"So what's plan?" Elinora asked.


End file.
